They All Lived Story 43: Reconstruction
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: In Amestris, with Drachma gone, is a time of recovery and finding new directions. Romances blossom, families grow, and people struggle to come to peace with the wreckage left by war. Even when you win, sometimes it's hard to find a happy ending.
1. Chapter 1

**April 16****th****, 1965**

"Well?"

"Patience," Ren laughed at Ethan's impatience. "You know you could confirm this on your own."

Ethan shook his head, though he couldn't keep himself from bouncing just slightly on his feet. "I'm too biased. We need a more objective opinion." Yes, his wife had been exhausted the last couple of weeks, and hungry too. Yes, she'd missed this last month, but that had happened before. He didn't want to get his hopes up more than they already were. "Besides, I'm used to delivering babies. I've never tried to confirm a pregnancy before." He didn't want to do something wrong with such a delicate process!

Ren shook her head and grinned up at Lia, who was sitting at the edge of an examination table in the Elric clinic, looking just as amused as she pulled her shirt back down from her midriff to cover her slender waist. "He's a little too eager if you ask me."

Lia giggled. "Humor him. I think he's afraid to believe me."

Ren put away the stethoscope. "Well you really need to pay more attention to your wife's hunches," she teased, "and put some credit in your own skills, _Doctor _Elric. There's no doubt she's pregnant."

"I told you," Lia grinned, smacking Ethan lightly on the arm with one hand.

Ethan's grin spread so much it heart as the words of confirmation sunk in. Pregnant. "Wow…" he breathed, then his eyes focused on Lia's face, and with a laughing whoop he hugged her. It was all he could do not to hug to hard! "Fantastic!"

Lia hugged him back. "We're going to be parents!"

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are?" Ethan asked as he kissed her warmly.

Lia grinned through the kiss. "Once or twice."

"At least take it to your office?" Ren commented with obvious amusement.

Ethan felt his face flush slightly, but his mood was too good to be dissuaded. "How do you think we got here?" he teased. Lia was pregnant. He was going to be a father. Could life possibly be better?

Lia poked him in retaliation. "Behave! Or I'll spoil our surprise and tell your parents before you get the chance."

Ethan stepped back. "All right, all right! I'll be good, promise." As he took a moment to breathe, a thousand other thoughts and questions bubbled up in his mind now that the critical fact was determined. He looked at Ren. "When are we due?"

"I'd say early to mid December," Ren smiled. "So you've got some time to get things ready."

There was certainly a lot to do! Not that he and Lia hadn't already discussed a variety of things in the theoretical. Now, suddenly, reality made them much more pressing. "Great!"  
chuckled as she stood up.

"By the end, it will seem like too much, I promise," Ren replied with a knowing grin. "At least on your part. _He_ might not be ready."

Ethan took the teasing easily, smiling back at Ren when she nodded his direction. "Oh I will," he said. "I'm looking forward to every bit of this."

"That's because you're not the one falling asleep between classes in the teacher's lounge and craving strange foods already," Lia pointed out. "Yesterday I had the weirdest urge to put mushrooms on ice cream."

Ethan suppressed a shudder. Okay, so there were some things even he wasn't really interested in trying. "Did you?" he looked at his wife.

Lia shrugged. "I didn't have any ice cream, so I had to settle for putting them on salad."

"I'm sure your fellow teachers would appreciate that fact if they had only known," Ethan chuckled, putting one arm back around his wife.

"Probably," Lia agreed. "Though Larissa, in the math department, had a baby last year, and she was just as bad. Nikki, who teaches Continental History, is due in August. And at least two of the other teachers our age have little ones who aren't in school yet. The boys don't like to gab with us about it much for some reason," she winked at Ethan. "Even old Mrs. Fenkleman likes to talk about when she had her kids, and when her daughters had theirs."

Ethan twitched. "I had Fenkleman in Senior Composition!" He really didn't want to think about old teachers that way on too intimate a level. At least most of the other teachers Lia spent time with were closer to their age and had replaced some of the old ones that had retired since Ethan graduated.

"Sorry, sweetie." Lia kissed his cheek. "I should get going though. I promised your Mom I'd help with dinner."

Ethan let her go regretfully. He didn't want to work until the end of the day. How was he supposed to focus in the wake of such amazing news? "I guess I'll see you later," he promised.

"Why don't you go with her?" Ren suggested.

"Really?" Ethan tore his eyes away from Lia to look at her, hopeful.

"You don't have any other appointments this afternoon," Ren pointed out. "I can cover any walk-ins for the next hour. Go home. Besides," she teased. "It's not like you can get fired for skipping out a little early."

She was right, of course. "Thanks," Ethan replied gratefully and then turned, grinning, back to his wife. "Let's go."

It only took a couple of minutes to get ready to go and leave the clinic. "I'm glad we're not driving," Lia giggled as she took his arm. "I'm not sure you're calm enough."

"Well aren't you excited?" Ethan asked, in playful defense of his own good mood.

"Of course I am," Lia said. "That's a silly question. I'm ecstatic! I'm just also very tired," she grinned as she said it, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked. "And I'm hungry," she admitted a moment later.

"Do you want to stop for a snack on the way home?" Ethan asked indulgently. Anything his wife wanted she was going to get!

"Maybe a little something," Lia nodded. "It's nice and warm today. How about some ice cream?"

* * *

"You're cooking dinner by yourself?" Edward asked, surprised to see Winry alone in the kitchen when he walked in after getting back from Headquarters.

"Not entirely," Winry smiled at him as she chopped fresh vegetables and added them to the lettuce already in the large salad bowl. "Lia's making her chicken and spinach casserole, but it's already in the oven. She had to run out for a bit to take care of an errand."

"What errand?" Ed asked curiously. He sniffed. The casserole did smell good!

"Something vague and reportedly of little consequence," Winry replied with a smug expression.

"You think she's with Ethan then," Ed replied.

"I'd place bets on it if I was a gambler," Winry nodded confidently. "Otherwise I would have expected her back at least half an hour ago."

"Well, do you want some help?" Ed offered, looking around at what still needed to be done.

"I'd love some." Winry kissed his cheek and nodded towards a large loaf of bread. "Could you butter that and add whatever herbs you want? It'll go in the oven next."

"Sure thing." Ed moved around her to get at the food, though now his curiosity was piqued by Winry's confidence that they would have some news when Lia and Ethan got back. He had sliced the loaf in half long-wise, buttered, and herbed when the he heard the door open in the entryway. He heard soft voices; definitely his son and daughter-in-law. "Showtime," he grinned at Winry, who chuckled.

"Lia, is that you?" Winry called out.

Ed stifled a laugh and started putting up the herbs.

"I'm back," Lia replied a moment later. "Sorry I took so long."

"We were beginning to think neither one of you was going to show," Ed couldn't help commented without turning around.

"Oh really?" Ethan commented, as his footsteps reached the edge of the kitchen. "I'm home early."

"We were expecting it," Winry chuckled as she turned around.

Ed glanced over his shoulder at his son, who stood there, one arm around Lia, looking slightly perplexed. Ed just couldn't keep it in any more. "You have something you want to tell us?"

"Well yeah," Ethan replied before he paused, then laughed and shook his head.

"You knew?" Lia looked between them, with a smile that spoke of disappointment at not getting to spring the surprise, but pleasure anyway.

"In this family how could I not?" Winry replied as she abandoned the salad and hugged them both at once. "Though it might be better to say I was highly suspicious than that I knew for certain," she admitted then as she stepped back, giving Ed room. "This is wonderful! So… when is the baby coming?"

"December," Lia smiled as Ed got his hug. He wasn't going to miss out! "So we have a while to get everything ready. Assuming Ethan doesn't hyperventilate before then," she teased, looking fondly at her husband.

"Hey, I thought I took the news pretty well," Ethan chuckled as Ed slapped him on the shoulder.

"Okay, so you did," Lia acknowledged with a playful tilt of her head. "But I don't think I've ever seen a guy so happy at the news."

"Most of us were caught off guard the first time," Ed laughed. Ethan had been campaigning for it. There had been no secret they were ready to have a family, so Lia's being pregnant was definitely a delight, but not a surprise. "Congratulations."

"Thanks, Dad," Ethan grinned. "At least we'll get to surprise Lia's parents."

"Which reminds me, I should go call Mom!" Lia vanished out of the kitchen.

Winry smiled as she turned back to the food. "Why don't you two set the table?"

"I don't think that was a hint," Ed smiled at his son.

"Me either," Ethan agreed.

Within the hour Lia's parents were notified and reportedly ecstatic. Since Lia was their only child, Ed wasn't surprised. Though by the time Lia got off the phone she had also called Ren, Alyse, Gracia, Cassie, and Sara and dinner was on the table!

"Does anybody want seconds, or thirds," Winry looked knowingly around the table, "Before I put things up?"

"No thanks, Mom," Ethan shook his head.

"Edward?"

Ed leaned back in his chair, comfortably full. "I'm good."

"Umm….I'd like a little more," Lia spoke him, her cheeks flushing for a moment.

Winry chuckled and sat back. "Go ahead. There's no hurry."

Lia refilled her salad plate. Ed noticed that Ethan watched adoringly.

"So," Ed shifted the conversation so Lia could eat without being the center of attention. "Have you given any thought to this kid's room yet?"

Ethan and Lia exchanged a look, and Ethan nodded. "Well, we figure that will depend on where we're living."

Ed felt a moment of confusion. Winry looked just as surprised. "What do you mean?"

Ethan blinked. "Well, I mean, it's not really fair to take up all your space forever right? Especially not if we're going to start filling the place with kids." There was a note of doubt in the assurance.

_They don't want to impose. _Ed was glad he and Winry had given some thought to the issue. "We were thinking your old room upstairs would be great," Ed admitted, smiling. Tore had moved out a couple of weeks after they all got back, finally getting a place in the barracks. The only thing their foster son had left behind was, alas, Rapscallion.

"It's kind of far from our room," Ethan pointed out.

"That's why we thought you could have the Master Bedroom," Winry informed them, clearly amused by their having surprised the kids again.

Ethan's golden eyes looked like they might pop. "But that's_ your_ room."

Lia had paused, fork halfway to her face, looking nearly as stunned.

"It's not going to be too long till I actually retire," Ed reminded his son, trying hard not to laugh. "As soon as that happens your Mom and I are going to be doing some traveling, seeing new places, visiting old friends. We'll be free to spend more time in Resembool with Aldon and Cassie. We'll still be around, but we're not going to be in Central as much. It seems kind of foolish to leave the house empty half the time."

"Besides that, we don't want you to leave," Winry added. "Not unless you want to of course. We don't want to pressure you into anything."

"Oh you're not," Lia swallowed and blurted out. "It's a wonderful offer…" she looked over at Ethan.

Ethan still seemed to be absorbing the idea. "So you'd move where, the guest room?"

"We figured we could take your room downstairs," Ed said. It was nearly as big as their room upstairs anyway. "Then you're close to the baby's room and you have more space."

Ethan looked at Lia. "Well, what do you think?"

Lia smiled. "I think it's a fantastic idea. Thank you so much!" The last was directed at Winry and Ed.

"You're welcome," Winry replied. "We love having you here, and we bought the house because it would be a great place for a family. That's what it's for."

"You certainly seemed to like it," Ed teased his son.

"Well yeah," Ethan grinned. "I love this house. It makes a lot of sense. I'm definitely not going to argue."

"Good," Ed chuckled. "Because I really didn't like the idea of having to consider selling it or leaving it vacant. A home is meant to be lived in." He had grown more attached to this house than he had realized until recently. In a time when he was free to go more places and do what he wanted, he still wanted to know he had that place to return to.

**April 19****th****, 1965**

"Are you sure, Mom?" Maes Mustang looked down at the couple of boxes sitting in his entry way. Everything in them had, until recently, belonged to his father.

Riza's expression was resolved. "Everything here is things I know he particularly wanted you to have," she said. "Most of it is alchemy related. It's of no used to me."

Maes almost said it wasn't of used to him either. His father's workshop, even when Maes began to learn alchemy, had always been a place where he was allowed under the strictest circumstance and often with directions not to touch quite a few things or risk being ejected from the room permanently.

Now a lot of those items were sitting in his house. Even more than four months after his father's death, Maes felt his throat constrict and he had to force his expression to remain pleasantly neutral. "Thanks, then. I'll have a look through them." They could go in his lab in the back of the house. "Would you like to stay for dinner?" She did at least half the time.

His mother shook her head, and smiled. "Not tonight. My friend Rebecca is in town and so I'm going out with her and her husband."

"Oh, all right. Have fun then." He gave his mother a hug before she left. Then, reluctantly, he moved the boxes.

The contents were mostly as his mother had described; alchemical components and mixing supplies, books, and a couple of his father's own encoded notes. It was out of one of those books an envelope slipped. It whispered as it fell. When Maes bent to pick it up, he noticed two things; it did not look new, and it had his name on it.  
That seemed to be enough invitation. Maes opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

_To my son,_

_ There are so many things in life that ought to be said, and aren't before the situation arises where they may be discussed. This has happened so many times in my life that there are days I wonder I wasn't considered a terrible parent. I have always felt fortunate that you turned out as well as you have, and a certain amount of guilt since your faults are no worse than mine, and I feel like I could have prevented so many of your sorrows if I had acted differently._

_ But if this letter is in your possession, than I expect I am dead already. Yeah, that's pretty morbid isn't it? Well, the book I am placing this in should come into your hands only after that so it seems like a safe bet. And I'm feeling rather morbid tonight, on the eve of war. I guess I should also rest assured that if you're reading this, you survived, and that in itself is a relief._

I hope that before I died, I spoke to you as I ought, but if not, then I only hope you can forgive me, and forgive me after you read this, because it's going to be much more straightforward than I dared to be sometimes; funny given my reputation.

The first issue is the war itself here. I know people wonder why I'm going. I've been retired for years. Well since when does that really mean anything? I've been the Flame Alchemist almost since I was old enough to join the military, and I risked my neck to take down Bradley and build a country that stood a real chance of surviving. Amestris is mine, in a way that no one else can claim. Even though I'm not President of the Military anymore, I still made it, and shaped it. So I'm going. So what if I'm an old man? Though the truth is, I'm not entirely convinced I'll survive. I know we'll win. Amestris doesn't lose. If I don't make it to the end, than the people I trust most in the world will do it for me.

If I don't make it, there are things I want you to do. The first one is, take care of the family. Your mother will need you, and so will Elena and the children. You are now the head of the Mustang family, and I'm counting on you to hold it together and take care of everyone. They will look to you for direction and support.

Don't let the past ruin the future. All we can do when we make a mistake is learn the lesson and push on from there, sure that we have become better men for it. If not, doubt and guilt can destroy everything we've worked for, and even who we are. There are things I have done that I will always regret, and I'm not sure I really deserve the forgiveness I've gotten for them, but I haven't let them hold me back, and I won't dishonor the people who support me by doing that. Neither should you. 

Next to Maes, on the desk, the phone rang. "Mustang residence."

"Hello, Lieutenant Colonel Mustang? This is Marcia O'Dell over at the Central Times. I'd like to interview you about President Mustang. If you could -"__

Oh not again. Four months of calls. A retired alchemist died saving the country and suddenly everyone in the world wanted to talk to anyone ever involved. Or at least, Maes suspected other people had gotten calls. Sara had told him Fullmetal certainly had. Maes, being Roy's son, got as much of it as his mother did. He tuned back in. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Now isn't a good time. Please call back…. Oh…. In a few months maybe? We're kind of busy getting ready for my father's memorial service. Thank you. Good evening. Good bye."

He heard a startled objection on the other end right before the receiver settled in place.

"Stupid press." Maes sighed and turned back to his father's letter.

_I've noticed, the last few years, that you seem disconcerted with yourself, and withdrawn. Talk to Elena, Maes. Don't let everything you have die because of guilt or pride.  
_

What the heck did he know anyway? Maes almost tossed the letter away. His father was far too good at hitting the mark. Instead he forced himself to finish.

_Your wife and children are your most precious resources and gifts. Draw strength from them, and give yours in return. I know you love them, but there needs to be more than that. _

_Your mother is already asleep, and I should wrap this up before I expound upon things that really don't need to be here. There is one other thing that's important._ _There are two books, both encoded, that your mother should have given you. The first, unsurprisingly, are my alchemy notes. I'm sure you'll have no trouble decoding them. The second is the personal journal I have kept since I first went to learn from Master Hawkeye. Into it the only thing missing are the pages I will write during the war, which I will leave with instructions to place them with it if I cannot. Hopefully they are there now._

Remember I always loved you, and I am still proud of you.  
Dad 

Maes refused to wipe his eyes. That would be to admit he was crying. He hadn't cried in front of his mother. He hadn't even cried in front of Elena. He stood, set the letter down on the desk, and poured himself a glass of scotch before returning to the desk. He wasn't entirely sure how to feel about his father's words. He felt touched that Dad had written it, back before the war, without knowing how things would turn out. He was irritated too, but mostly at himself, for how right some of the things in the letter were… and some that seemed so off. Maes was trying, so hard, to keep the past in the past, but what did that have to do with what happened when a man messed up fresh?

"Daaaaadddyyyy!" a female shriek, barely muffled by the thick oak door, echoed in the hallway.

Maes opened the door and looked down at Rochelle, who was bawling and holding a doll. "What's wrong, precious?"

"Roy broke my dolly!" the seven year old bawled, flinging herself against his legs and wrapping her arms around them.

"Roy!" Maes bellowed.

"I didn't do anything!" his son shouted back adamantly. He sounded like he was in the living room.

"Then get over here and explain this!" Just what he needed tonight. Maes tried to rein in his temper. He hadn't been home that long. Their family was still readjusting to being all together, and their grandfather had died. It was natural that things should be chaotic.

Roy – no reason to think of him as _the younger, or little_ anymore, much as it pained him – came around the corner clearly already on the defensive. "I was reading a book and she hit me over the head with it! I pulled my book away and the arm came off."

"See!" Rochelle sniffled. "He broke her!"

He could feel the headache starting already. "No, sweetie. It was an accident." Maes gently pried the doll out of his daughter's fingers. "I'll fix it. Now you apologize to Roy for hitting him over the head."

Rochelle gave another dramatic sob, then stifled it and looked at her brother. "Sorry… dufus."

"What did you say?" Maes stared at his youngest. "Go to your room!"

'But it's almost dinner time!" Rochelle stared at him as if he had grown two more heads. Maybe he had. Maes couldn't remember the last time he had yelled at his daughters. Or, for that matter, the last time he had been much of a disciplinarian.

"I said go to your room," Maes growled. "You blamed your brother for an accident and insulted him. Maybe going hungry for an evening will remind you to be nice."

Rochelle stared at him another moment, then ran down the hall and vanished. A moment later he heard her on the stairs, shouting "Moooommmy!" as she ran.

Maes looked down at Roy, who was still standing there. "Something else you needed?"

"Umm, no," Roy blinked. "I just, wow… I've never seen you put her in place before." Then he turned and headed back into the living room.

Maes had just closed his door when there was another knock. At least this time there wasn't screaming. "Who is it?"

"Théa," his middle daughter replied with a giggle.

Maes opened the door again. Théa bounced through the door. "I'm trying to pick a dress," she said with a definite tone as bright yellow skirts flashed around her knees. "Do you like this one Daddy?" She spun, and paused waiting expectantly.

The dress, he noticed immediately, was one of her old favorites. The problem was, it was now far too small. The skirt was inches shorter than it had been, and the buttons looked like they might pop open. "It's a pretty color," he said, "But aren't you too big for it?"

Théa's face fell, then her lip quivered, and she ran out of the room bawling.

_Now what did I do? _Maes closed the door and went back to his glass, sipping slowly. This was not his day. Really it was a not his day in a several month string of not-his-days. But when they first got home, everyone had just been too happy to be reunited to quarrel about anything it seemed. If this was _back to normal_ what did that say about his home life?

Another knock, firmer and of a different tone; higher on the door. "Come in, Elena."

The door opened and his wife entered, looking concerned. "Maes… did you just tell Dorothéa she was fat?"

"What?" Maes blurted, stunned. "Of course I didn't say that! All I said was that she was too big to wear that dress. It's got to be at least two sizes too small for her now."

"Well she's crying in her room," Elena replied calmly. "You might want to go explain that."

"I will," Maes sighed, and shook his head. "I thought the hormones didn't start until at least ten. If she's sensitive about being chubby now, I don't want to hear her when she's fourteen."

"And if you say that to her, I hope you feel guilty," Elena replied with surprising sharpness.

"What?" He was seriously striking out today. "She is. I'm sure she'll grow out of it eventually."

"How consoling; Dinner will be ready in ten minutes," Elena replied. "You might want to go tell both of your daughters to come down to dinner." She turned and left the room.

Maes finished the last of his glass in a single gulp, folded the letter and tucked it back in the book, and headed upstairs. _Now all I have to do is get Roy upset with me. Then my day would be complete._


	2. Chapter 2

**April 22****nd****, 1965**

Six meetings in one afternoon! At least it was all over for today. Alyse sighed as she carried her work case up the stairs to her apartment. There were moments she wondered if military special events and planning three weddings at once weren't just a little bit much?

At the top of the landing she paused to pull out her keys and stopped. She could smell something inside, but she hadn't cooked anything that smelled like… cheese? She tried the door. Why was it unlocked? Still, she couldn't imagine anyone breaking in during the afternoon and cooking. Not with the shop downstairs.

Cautiously, she opened the door. "Hello?"

"Oh, you're home!" A moment later Cal poked his head out of the little kitchen, grinning. "How was work?"

Alyse shook her head slightly, getting a bearing on things. They both got off duty about the same time, though Cal hadn't been on too many missions lately. They had all been in Central. She'd had meetings after she got off today too, so it wasn't like she wasn't running a little late. Still… "Cal, what are you doing here?"

"You've been so busy lately, I thought I'd make dinner for a change," he said, apparently unbothered by her reaction. "You have a better kitchen."

This was true. Alyse smiled. Her curiosity was piqued. She cooked for him a lot. This was definitely a first. "What did you make?"

He smiled, abashed. "Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. I'm not much of a gourmet chef, but I do all right."

"It smells wonderful, but how did you get in my apartment?" she asked.

Cal flushed, and shrugged. "I told your Aunt what I wanted to do, and she let me in."

So Aunt Winry was partially behind this. Alyse chuckled. "I'll have to thank her later."

"You might want to wait until after you taste my cooking," Cal replied as he closed the distance and kissed her warmly.

Alyse dropped her bag to the floor to respond, her arms going comfortably around his neck. "It could taste like glue and you'd still make my day," she admitted.

"Sounds rough," Cal gave her one more quick peck and then headed towards the kitchen again. "Temperamental officers?"

"Temperamental officers, brides, grooms, mothers-of-brides, you name it," Alyse sighed, following him. She couldn't help smiling as she watched him cook. No, it wasn't gourmet, but that was fine. Good home cooking was good home cooking, especially if she didn't have to do it! He had gone as all out as he could with the meal too. It was a quality loaf of bread, good cheese, and the soup – while out of cans – was in a pot and he had added milk. "That looks delicious."

Picking up the spoon to keep stirring the soup, Cal looked slightly embarrassed. "Well I hope you like it."

"Any special reason you wanted to cook?" Alyse asked curiously. "Getting tired of me feeding you?"

"No, not at all," Cal shook his head. "You work so hard, I just thought you might like a night off. Especially since you're not obligated to cook for two." He grinned over his shoulder. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Of course not." Alyse leaned against the doorjamb. "You'd have to go back to eating military food three meals a day."

"I _did_ get some news today though," Cal admitted, flipping a sandwich in the pan. "If you're interested, it's on the table."

Alyse turned around. She had missed the fact there was an envelope on the table. Curious, she picked it up and pulled out the letter inside. It was addressed to Cal, and seemed to be a formal set of orders of some sort. She only had to read down to the line _shall be_ _promoted to the rank of Colonel _before she dropped the letter and spun around. "That's fantastic!" she squealed in delight, kissing him on the cheek and hugging him.

Cal blushed slightly, laughed, and set down a spatula so he could put one arm around her. "Thanks. I'm still kind of in shock. But I figured you deserved to know before anyone else."

"Anyone who didn't know about it before you did anyway," Alyse amended. "Or in your office who found out before you left."

"Okay, fine, you're the most important person who needed to know," Cal laughed and gave her shoulders a squeeze.

"I'll buy that," Alyse agreed, feeling giddy now and excited, both for Cal, and for being told _first_. "So this is a celebratory dinner then too."

"Sure is," Cal agreed. "Wine goes with grilled cheese right?"

Alyse rested her head on his shoulder, and nodded. "It does if you want it to, _Colonel Fischer_."

"It's going to take a while to get used to that."

"Oh I don't know," Alyse smiled. "I've always thought it would sound rather dashing."

**April 24****th****, 1965**

Edward had to admit, he hadn't seen anything like it. The box in the window looked like a combination between a radio and a movie screen, except that there was no screen and the front was made of glass he couldn't see through. "Just what is that supposed to be?"

"Do you actually _pay attention_ to news that isn't military related?" His daughter, of all people, chuckled as she stopped next to him and looked at the display window in the department store. "They call it a television."

"And just what's it supposed to do?" Ed had to admit he was curious, though he suspected Winry would find the new technological development far more interesting. "It looks sort of like a movie screen," he admitted his earlier observation.

"That's sort of what it is," Sara explained. "Only you have it in your home, like radio, and it picks up signals the same way, only they have picture too. The advertisements say that they're going to have five stations to start. One for news and informational programming, two that are going to start showing movies so you can see them sometimes when they aren't in theaters, and the last two will be for what they're calling variety programming: a mix of shorter programs that is informative or just entertaining, like weekly story shows like they do radio programs."

It was… well a fascinating idea. "That's pretty ingenious," he admitted. "There are a lot of movies I've enjoyed that I wouldn't mind seeing again sometime." He looked at the cost. It wasn't a cheap item, but he had seen much more extravagant things. "It makes sense to have news on there too. Images are effective." Yeah, it seemed like a sound concept.

"Trisha and James both think it's great," Sara admitted with a chuckle.

"Thinking of getting one?" Ed asked curiously.

"Maybe," Sara replied. "I'd rather see the concept take off first and make sure it's going to stick around before we spend the money. Though it does seem like something people will really enjoy."

Ed nodded. "I remember when we were lucky to have a radio. Al and I would try and imagine what the voices on the other end looked like." He chuckled then. "I guess not much has changed huh?"

"Not really," Sara chuckled. "I'm sure one day kids are going to ask _you didn't have a television growing up?_ The same way it amazes me that someone might not have a radio, or a refrigerator."

Ed laughed. "My Mom would have loved a refrigerator. It's pretty hard to regulate the temperature on an ice box."

"I bet," Sara nodded as they turned away from the display and kept walking. They had volunteered to shop for a few last minute things for a family supper, and Ed had the feeling that leaving people hungry wouldn't go over well, no matter what new discovery they made on the way!

**April 26****th****, 1965**

Somehow bars in Central were a lot less dramatic and exciting than Tore remembered. Not that they had really changed much; especially not the ones he frequented. The people had changed a little, but then some of them hadn't come back alive. Just how many was clearer than ever before when he looked around the room. Too many soldiers came here. That's why he noticed them missing. Half the familiar faces were gone.

There was still beer, pool, and girls though. Tore could usually find a buddy or two to hang out with if he couldn't score a date. Tonight had not proven to be a night for either just yet however. He'd managed a game of pool with a couple of enlisted he sort of new from the barracks, but mostly he sat at a table, nursing down his second beer and wondering if another bar might have a better selection of girls. All the ones here looked like they'd come with fellas tonight.

"Hello, Terrence," a slightly sultry, female voice coming from nearby made him turn and looked up.

He did not immediately recognize the girl standing in front of him. Not that she wasn't cute. Mostly it was the fact that he found himself staring almost perfectly into some rather abundant cleavage in a shirt that seemed barely solid enough to contain it. Tore looked up at her face after only a moment, and had one of those moments where he knew she looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place her. _At least I know I haven't slept with her before. _She wasn't a knock-out, but she was definitely pretty, and the cleavage was part of a matched set of curves, above which sat a rounded heart of a face with small, full lips, a cute nose, and big blue eyes. Her hair was long, thick, and kind of straw-colored blonde. She was a few pounds heavier than any girl he'd ever dated, but not unattractive.

"Good evening," he smiled. Clearly she knew him. "I'm sorry to say I can't put a name to a pretty face," he admitted. "I'm sure I know you."

She giggled, and her chest momentarily threatened to pop out the top of her pale yellow sleeveless top. "Cecilia Reynolds. We were in the same class in school."

When he had still been a student, obviously. The name was definitely familiar, but the girl he put it to had been short, with stringy hair and fairly dumpy looking. Obviously she had improved since then! "I remember," he nodded. "It's been a while. You look really good."

With a coy little smile she sat down across from him. "Thanks. You know, it's okay you didn't recognize me. I didn't really expect you to even recognize my name."

"Why not?" Tore asked, feeling a little guilty at her assumption. Of course, he had barely remembered when she said it, so it was probably a fair assessment.

"You always hung out with the cool kids," she shrugged, and sipped her drink. "At least until you got too cool for academics and ditched the rest of us to go do something more interesting," she winked.

"It wasn't quite like that," Tore admitted, but she laughed lightly.

"Don't be so modest, Tore," she smiled. "Hang around for long and everybody's talking about what you Alchemists did to Drachma. Your name comes up a lot, actually."

"It does?" Tore wasn't necessarily surprised that people mentioned him among the others, but more that she'd heard it. "Well I just hope no one's soiling it then," he recovered quickly.

"Not at all." For a moment she looked like she was sizing him up. She nodded a second later. "I have to admit; I had a motive for coming over here. My friend Tracy and I are on a bit of a man hunt."

"Oh really." Tore smiled with some amusement at the term, wondering where this was going. "Should I start running before you start shooting or just duck for cover?"

"Not quite that kind of hunt," Cecilia giggled. "We're looking for someone, devilishly handsome, with a lot of stamina and an adventurous spirit."

"And you only need one?" Tore understood some of what type of hunt it was now. In his lonely mood, he was also most likely game. "I don't have a friend for your friend." Which was usually how this worked.

"Oh that's all right," Cecilia's smile became playfully wicked. "We're only looking for one."

It took a moment for that to sink in. She was asking him if he wanted them _both_? He'd never taken part in a threesome. Partially because they often involved two guys, and he just couldn't get comfortable with that. Really, the opportunity had never arisen, or really occurred to him. "You're sure?"

"Positive," she replied easily.

"Let's say I'm interested," Tore replied with slow deliberation. "This friend of yours isn't a dog is she? I mean, you're obviously the cute one."

Cecilia's face blushed brightly. "You're dangerous with that tongue," she replied, composing herself. "Just between us, Tracy's not a model; she's a little on the skinny side and maybe a bit plain, but she's a great friend."

_Clearly, if you're willing to share a guy and a bed with her at the same time. _It was quirky, and bizarre, and utterly wild that this was a conversation he was even having. He was used to girls being more conservative. He also wasn't used to being outright propositioned. "Well I'll take your word for it then." He glanced around, trying to figure out who this other woman was.

He didn't have to wait long. Tracy approached a moment later, and Tore had to admit that Cecilia's assessment, while frank, was true. Tracy was a little on the thin side the way Cecilia was a little bit plump. She wasn't a beauty, but she was pleasant enough. There weren't, in his mind, a lot of truly ugly girls in the world. Tracy looked at him then smiled at Cecilia. "Is he game?"

Cecilia looked back at him contemplatively. "So, are you?"

When was he ever going to be presented with such a… unique… opportunity again in his lifetime? "Sure," he grinned and finished his last swig of beer. Why not?

* * *

"So what do you want to do tomorrow?" Al asked as he handed Elicia a cup of tea and then sat down beside her on the cozy loveseat in front of the fireplace. The little rental cottage was charming and private.

"That we haven't done before?" Elicia asked with a smile as she sipped her tea, and then rested her head against his shoulder. "Well, there's a craft fair I saw advertized tomorrow. Those are always fun, and they haven't had one while we've been here."

"Sure," Al agreed easily, kissing her cheek. The little resort town on a lake in the south-western portion of Amestris had proven to be an ideal place for them to spend a few weeks. In many ways, it was a second, longer honeymoon. He and Elicia hadn't spent so much time by themselves since their first year of marriage. It was delightful to rediscover life with just the two of them. "That sounds like fun."

"Really?" Elicia asked with a sly smile. "Or are you just saying that because you know I enjoy them?"

"No I mean it," Al laughed. "They used to have them at the festivals in Resembool remember? My mom loved them, and I like seeing what people can make. Even Ed likes them," he remembered with a smile. "So I think it would be fun. You always find nice things."

"And you've been spoiling me by letting me buy them," Elicia said.

"Everyone deserves a little indulgence sometimes," Al insisted. "Besides, when was the last time we redecorated?"

"Years ago," Elicia admitted. "But I thought you didn't like change."

A fair criticism. "I don't hate it," Al replied, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Change is inevitable in some things, and never seems to happen with others. I guess I'm just not as flexible as I used to be." After everything that had happened in the past few years, it was difficult. He smiled. "I think I could handle if you wanted to get new curtains or paint or something."

"Then I think we should," Elicia giggled and kissed his cheek. "Those curtains in the living room have been there since I was pregnant with Will."

* * *

Tore's previous lovers had never had any reason to complain about his stamina, but then, he had never tried to please two women in one evening. He would never admit it, but by the time they were finished he was completely spent. After, well… he wasn't entirely sure what to do. What did a guy say to two girls who had decided to do him not only in the same night, but the same bed and room, with the other involved?

He was saved from conversation by Tracy's regretful announcement that she had work in the morning, and Cecilia briefly excusing herself to the restroom. Instead of finding himself in need of starting conversation, he was left briefly utterly alone.

The used ash try on the bedside table cued him in that it was probably okay to have a smoke, so Tore reached over the edge of the bed for his pants and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and leaned back against the pillows, relaxing.

"Nice view," Cecilia chuckled as she stood in the bathroom doorway, watching him.

Tore let his eyes run over her still-naked form. "That should be my line." He'd decided he didn't mind slightly heavier girls. Her curves had been deliciously enticing during sex, and he had the feeling he would enjoy cuddling with her too, if she was the cuddling type.

A moment later he found out as she crossed the room and snuggled up beside him. "You're amazing," she purred, one arm going over his chest.

"I don't know about amazing," Tore chuckled modestly.

"Such stamina," Cecilia disagreed. "The last time Tracy and I had a guy over here he conked out without even getting to me."

Tore had known that he likely wasn't the first; still it was good to know he'd accounted himself well. "No offense to your friend, but you're the prize here," Tore replied, slipping his left arm around her shoulders, leaving his right hand free.

Cecilia blushed. "You really think so?"

Between the two of them, definitely. "Sure," Tore agreed easily. "You're pretty, you feel good, and you know how to read a guy." A pleasant surprise, that Cecilia had picked up quickly on how he liked it.

And he seemed to be able to tell what she liked to hear. Cecilia's smile widened; eyes bright. "You're sweet," she chuckled. "You want a drink, dessert maybe? I made strawberry shortcake yesterday and I've got cream liquor or wine."

A drink and dessert; she really did go all out. Tore didn't feel like leaving just yet, and he was definitely hungry after all the effort he'd put into tonight's exertions. "Both sound great," he admitted. "I'm sure I could stick around a while longer."


	3. Chapter 3

**May 1****st****, 1965**

"How do I look?"

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Alyse chuckled as she looked up at Cal.

He smiled back nervously, and shrugged. "I haven't been in dress uniform in at least three years." He hadn't been a Colonel then either. The added star on his shoulder felt weightier with the responsibilities that came with it.

"Well you look very dashing," Alyse assured him as she walked up and gave him a critical look-over. He tried not to fidget under her gaze. In a near-midnight blue dress that went to mid-calf, with a dress-jacket over it of the same dark blue, and her hair pulled back conservatively, Alyse looked lovely, but appropriately serious given today's events. "Let's just try this." She reached out and brushed her hands lightly over his uniform in a couple of spots, reached up and tugged at his collar, and then grabbed a comb and – something – out of her purse. "Sit down."

Slightly afraid, Cal sat down on the edge of his bed and waited as Alyse attacked his hair. It was easier to submit than argue, and even he had often let it run as it would. Getting it to be anything other than unruly was a pain. That was one reason he had never grown his curls longer than they were.

A couple of minutes later, Alyse was smiling very satisfactorily. "Perfect."

"Somehow I doubt that," Cal chuckled in good humor.

"Take a look." His girlfriend looked particularly smug.

Cal stood and went over to the mirror hanging on the closet door. He halted up short when he saw the reflection. From what he'd felt, she hadn't done more than remove a spot of lint or two from an otherwise already clean and straight uniform. Somehow though, her simple ministrations had made everything look spot-on. Even his hair looked like each curl was _meant_ to ruffle the way it did, though he couldn't really have said just how it was any different than usual. He looked more professional than he ever had in his life. "How did you do that?"

"Years of watching Mom," Alyse giggled and poked her head around from behind him, reflecting in the mirror. "She learned from Grandma. Do you feel more like a Colonel now?"

"Yeah," Cal admitted, putting an arm around her shoulders as he turned away from the mirror. "I do. Thanks 'Lyse."

"Well we ought to look our best," she smiled, though a hint of sadness fell into it now. "I wish Mom and Dad were back. I can't believe they're missing this."

"Maybe they would rather just grieve privately," Cal suggested. He knew that Roy Mustang had been a friend of the Elrics, as well as Elicia's uncle by friendship with her father. It had to be much more difficult for them than the rest of Amestris. Truly though, it had to be hardest on Maes, Mrs. Mustang, and the rest of their family. Cal wanted to support his friends. The Alchemists had observed a small tribute to the Flame Alchemist in their own way, he had heard, up on the front, but for those who couldn't be there, this was their chance to pay respects to a legend who had lived to know he was one. It had taken quite a while; not just to arrange it, but to wait until enough reconstruction had happened with Briggs to allow the time and attention to be paid to it.

"Possibly," Alyse agreed. "I still wish they were here."

"They'll be back," Cal gave her a real, two-armed hug. He was getting pretty good at telling when she really needed one. "At least they're enjoying themselves right?"

"That's what Mom said the last time she called," Alyse agreed, hugging him back. "All right, let's go. I'm very curious to hear what Uncle Edward decided to say about General Mustang."

Cal chuckled as they headed out the door. "I bet it's going to be memorable."

* * *

This was it. Five months after the fact, Maes was finally attending his father's funeral. It seemed strange, having had five months to adjust to the idea, and the huge gaping hole in life that had been the charisma, charm, perseverance, and ego of the original Roy Mustang.

Maes had said goodbye to his father in the blustering cold of the north, with his mother, and those who had been there to witness his final great act. Or so they called it now. He supposed there wasn't a single person in Amestris who hadn't heard a dozen retellings of the great conflagration that had been Roy Mustang's "selfless action out of love and devotion to the Country he helped raise up and solidify as a great and just power."

Not that the praise wasn't deserved, but it was beginning to make Maes feel a little ill. The press still called. They wanted interviews. They wanted an authorized biography. They wanted to know what kind of a life Maes had had growing up the son of the Hero of Ishbal, the great Flame Alchemist.

It just went on and on. Maes, grateful for the excuse of wearing dress uniform instead of a black suit, emptied the glass in his hand and set it down on his office desk. It was almost time to leave. Upstairs, Elena and his mother were dressing the children. Maes wished more than anything else, they didn't have to go. It was tough enough to lose a grandfather they had all adored. Why parade them around in front of all those uncaring, shallowly-sympathetic people who wanted a glimpse of the Mustang family in mourning? Whose every eye would be on them.

"Maes?" It was Elena in the hallway. "We're ready."

Maes stuck the bottle back up in its cabinet and his watch in his pocket. "Coming."

In the living room, everyone was waiting. The children were lined up, as if waiting for an inspection. Indeed, Maes almost found it ironic, since he had been considering this in terms of engagements and combat. They weren't facing the enemy though; just the public.

"You look lovely," he told Elena quietly. His wife looked, at the moment, every inch the elegant daughter of society and culture she had been raised as. The black dress skirt and jacket of brushed silk was very becoming. The black hat with short-veil on her head was of the Aerugean style.

"Thank you." Why did she have to look so surprised?

Maes offered his mother a soft smile and a kiss on the cheek. "Are you all right?"

Dressed not unlike Elena, if in a slightly older style of dress suit, also black, though a different cut of silk with a more distinct grain, Riza clasped his hands. "I'll be fine," she assured him quietly. That was his mother; always in command of the situation, no matter what her feelings.

Maes turned to look at his children. He choked up sharply when he looked at Roy, standing almost perfectly at attention in a black suit with a tie. He looked – Maes couldn't help but think – a little too much like his namesake. There was something serious, almost grim, in his son's eyes today. Maes placed a hand on his son's shoulder and tried to look approving. He suspected he had succeeded when Roy relaxed just a little.

His daughters looked like little cherubs. Rochelle, not in black, but in a very dark purple dress not too far off from it, with a skirt that fluffed about the knees, had a bow in her hair that her grandfather had given her for a holiday gift the winter before the war broke out. Maes managed a smile, and her quivering lip stopped. She smiled back.

Dorothéa wasn't looking at him at all. Maes felt a wash of guilt. Her moods with him were variable of late. Sometimes she wanted nothing more than a hug from her daddy, and at others she seemed afraid he would criticize her again. The too-small bright yellow dress –inappropriate as it would have been anyway- had been passed down to her little sister. It had been replaced by one of dark, silvery-gray chiffon that fit much better. She wore a little necklace of silver, with a tear-drop shaped blue stone; also a gift from her grandfather. "Very pretty," he offered a smile, hoping today would turn into a hug day. Théa looked up, but didn't say a word.

To avoid the awkwardness, Maes turned back to his mother and Elena. "I guess we should go. I'll get the car."

"It's already waiting," Elena replied with a slightly cool gaze that Maes couldn't quite read. "I thought, today, it would be best to have a driver."

Maes had been prepared to drive. Irritation flashed, but he stifled it. "All right." He didn't want to argue. Not today. Today they put on their best public faces and pretended they were a whole, close, cohesive family unit.

As they headed out the door, Maes caught himself wondering… Since when weren't they? And why had it taken him so long to admit it?

* * *

The memorial for former-president, retired-General, Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang, was made up of two portions. The funeral procession, which would cap off with the Eulogy Edward had been asked to prepare – which would, he had learned after promising, be broadcast on radio and via the new televisions for anyone who had them – to every household in Amestris who wanted to listen.

The section portion, for military, friends, and family only, was a reception in the Officer's club. That was the part Ed would much rather get to. He had never felt so nervous about public speaking in his entire life. This wasn't a private moment. Or rather, it was supposed to be an intimate remembrance for those who had actually known him… except that it would be watched by people who weren't even there.

"It's all right," Winry squeezed his hand, which he hadn't even realized was a little damp with sweat. It was harder to tell with gloves. "I bet you look fantastic on television."

That got the cracked smile Ed felt like he needed to let out somehow. "You'll look better," he countered. There were cameras in the crowd, and he was sure that for those who chose the exciting option of watching wherever they could, there were also pictures of the crowd. Not that it was easy to pick anyone in particular out of the swarm, given most of them wore dress uniforms.

They didn't have to wait much longer. There was no body, but that didn't keep them from burying the ashes and bones recovered from the site; in this case in a proper casket out of respect. It was, fortunately, still a solemn and stately business. It could have been too easily blown out of proportion into a circus event given the importance of the occasion. In the front rows, reserved for the real, personal guests, Ed watched, and felt his throat constrict tightly as the casket was lowered and buried.

Riza stood, surrounded by her son and family, looking every bit the elegant, stately, bereaved wife of a national hero. Or so Ed supposed she looked to anyone who didn't know her. To him – and likely everyone else who had know her and known Roy – she was just the same Riza Hawkeye, now Mustang, as she had always been, in consummate control of her feelings and aware of her surroundings. He was grateful, really, that it had been as long as it had been since Roy's death. The most acute pain of Riza's mourning was passed, the reality had sunk in, and she had had her time to grieve in private.

When it was time, Ed was barely aware of his feet moving, taking him to the low platform set up nearby for the occasion. It felt weird, and awkward, but the words he had agonized over for months, ran over and over in his head. What to say about Roy? It had been a daunting choice. What would Roy have wanted? What would Riza want? What was appropriate and would satisfy those who wanted to remember him?

Riza had approved it, but Ed still worried. He stood in front of all of Amestris' military, and friends and guests of the Mustang family, and for a moment… he froze. In front of him eyes and cameras had turned, expecting, waiting. No one said a word. _If you're listening, Mustang, just remember… your wife made me do this. _

Ed swallowed, and opened his mouth. "When… when Riza asked me to speak today, at first I really wasn't sure the best way to go about it. To try and sum up Roy Mustang in a few words, or paragraphs, or even pages, would be an enormous task, and I'm still not sure anyone will ever really do it justice."

"To a lot of Amestris, for a long time now, Mustang has been a well-known figure; Hero of Ishbal, the Flame Alchemist, first President of the Amestris Military after deposing the corrupt Fuhrer Bradley and returning honor… and pride, to Amestris' citizens… all of them." In the audience, he saw a few Ishbalans nod.

"But that's not a person, that's a list of titles and accomplishments that will go in history books and be read for generations by people who never knew him, and they'll think _this is who Roy Mustang was. _But they wouldn't know him. To the military, and the State Alchemists, he was an officer, a colleague… to a very select group who had the dubious pleasure of the subordinates of Colonel Roy Mustang, he was an swaggering, self-confident, commanding officer who… who deserved the respect and loyalty he inspired in us, no matter whether we all liked him or not." There, once more, his throat constricted. Ed wet his lips from the inside, and made himself continue. In front of him, those officers stood or sat together, with family, and knew what he knew.

"He wasn't easy to get along with a lot of the time; he wanted things his way and he got them," he smiled, remembering how much of a fight that could be. "But he relied on us and us on him. He inspired us, not for being a great leader, but because you couldn't help but believe in him, and in what he wanted to do." Now, years later, it was easy to admit.

"More than that… no matter how he acted, he supported his subordinates, even if you completely missed it at the time." Like he had. "He'd badger, and push, and gripe, until you had to do the best you could, even if it was just to spite him, or so you thought."

Below, Falman, Feury, and Breda all looked like they were caught between the urge to cry and the urge to laugh. Riza was smiling softly. Ed focused his eyes there. That smile made it easier. "He wasn't the best at being openly emotional or supportive, but what he offered was often more effective, especially with tough cases. He was brilliant at making you do what he wanted, even when you had no idea. But really, in the end, you had to admire him for his tenacity, and because, if nothing else, never in his life did he fail to meet a goal he'd promised to himself, or to us, no matter what the risk. When we took down Bradley… well it was a coup d'etat. By rights, he could have been executed instead of memorialized. If he'd failed, we probably all would not be here right now, and no one would remember him as a hero."

His throat was going dry. Damn it, he hadn't expected to get quite so emotional, not in front of so many people. "But that's not what happened, and that's not where we are… and it's because a determined kid refused to take no for an answer. He didn't come from a rich family with a noble name, or get to attend fancy schools. He climbed his way up, and he just kept climbing. And an awful lot of us got brought along for the ride." There, Ed did smile. "It's no secret, seeing as it's also the stuff of legend, that Mustang and I argued a lot." There, he heard chuckles down below. "But really, he's the one who helped me up when I couldn't have been much lower. In his way, he made me help myself, and he gave me the opportunities to do it. He did that for a lot of people, and for this country, because above all else, he cared about people. That's what he ought to be remembered for. Before the titles, and the feats of alchemy… he'd hate me for ruining his reputation," Ed chuckled, "But he had a surprisingly good heart underneath all the bravado. He was a great officer, a top-notch alchemist, sure… but he was also a husband, a father… and a great friend."

He almost lost it at that point. _Hold to together, Edward. You are not going to cry in front of the entire country. _"In the end, he gave his life for everything he loved, and I don't think he regretted or hesitated. The one eye-witness report we have said he died in action, and he did it doing something no one else could. He deserves the accolades, but it's not the hero I'll miss. It's the sarcastic comments, the stacks of paperwork that never seemed to be done… nights out playing pool at the bar." A lot of the soldiers were looking misty eyed now, he noticed. And why not? They had done the same with their comrades for a long time. They knew. "The legend will never die… but it's Roy we'll miss."

Ed had never received such a reverent hush in all his life. Not even when he told his alchemy students the story of his background. It wasn't the type of moment for clapping or ovations. Ed nodded his head once, and left the podium on the stage.

Winry gave his hand another squeeze as he returned to his spot beside her.

Now, President Rehnquist took the stand, and Ed was glad that he wasn't doing the rest of this. It was a little weird, but knowing what was coming, it was a fitting tribute.

"Today, we honor and remember Roy Mustang. I need not say anything more really, about his accomplishments. They have been masterfully presented already. What I do wish to say is that, with approval of the Assembly, we do hereby declare that from now on, December 28th, the date in which Mustang gave his life in combat, and effectively ended the War with Drachma in their final defeat, as Roy Mustang Day."

Then, and only then, did applause break out. A small roar at first, rising to a loud clamor of approval. Every year, aside from the incoming one, Amestris would now celebrate Mustang and the end of the war. Ed found it fitting.

* * *

Trisha Heimler waited anxiously through the entire morning's business, trying hard not to fidget. For once her mother, _her_ mother, had insisted that she wear a dress. It didn't happen often, but because this was supposed to be a really serious occasion, and because it was about Roy's grandfather, she had relented with only a few minutes of pouting. It could have been worse. The dark burgundy dress came down halfway past her knees, but the skirt was flowy enough she could move around in it. The top had a simple v-neck, and thick straps instead of sleeves. Given the warm weather, it wasn't so bad. At least she got to wear easy slip-on flats with it. She couldn't see how some of the girls in her class at school wore heels outside of school, to parties and things, or on days when they did not have physical education.

Still, the memorial had been awkward. She found it hard to sit still, even though she felt really bad for her best friend, and had found Grandpa Edward's speech sad. He was so rarely serious when she saw him. Not like that.

Afterwards, there seemed to be tons of people who wanted to talk to Roy's Dad and Mom and Grandma, and she couldn't get close, because Roy and his sisters were with them the whole time. Finally, once they were all inside the officer's club, the crowds seemed to be less, and she managed to worm away from her parents through the crowd and get up to him. "Roy!" She grabbed his right hand and tugged him away from his family.

He looked surprised, and then his face lit up almost at once. "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you, silly," Trisha grinned back. "You looked like you wanted out."

"Well, yeah," Roy admitted, following her around one of the tables with refreshments out of the crowd. "It's been really crazy. I mean, these reporters even want to talk to me, and it's not like I have anything much to say. It wouldn't be much of a story. I mean…. Sure I miss Grandpa, but that doesn't really sound like news."

"You'd think," Trisha agreed sympathetically. "My Mom said that that's just how they do things. If they think they can make a story out of anything they'll look for it."

"You don't want to know how many times today I've been told I look just like Grandpa," Roy rolled his eyes and leaned back against the window ledge behind him. The bank of windows at the back of the room looked out on the balcony and gardens beyond. "Or asked if I want to be an alchemist like Dad and Grandpa."

"But you do," Trisha replied. He'd said so to her often enough. "Why haven't you asked your Dad about training yet anyway?" Trisha's mother had begun teaching her the basics of alchemy recently, though she'd also said that when things settled down, Trisha might decide she wanted a different teacher. After their first argument over something in the alchemy book, Trisha thought she understood why. She loved her Mom, and a lot of the time they got along great, but that didn't mean she should be her mother's student. Lately, she had been thinking about asking Grandpa Edward.

Roy fidgeted, looking uncomfortable. "I… I'm not sure I should."

"Why not?"

"He just… seems to have a lot on his mind lately," Roy replied. "He's just been kinda, different."

"Well he was in the war," Trisha pointed out, "And your Grandpa died… and that's his Dad."

"I know that," Roy snapped. "I mean… I guess I don't know what I mean," he admitted after a moment. "Maybe I should just wait longer. The whole house has been weird trying to get used to everyone being home."

"Sure," Trisha smiled. "It was kinda weird at our place too. Good, cause Mom and Dad are back, but it still felt funny after so long apart to figure out things like what to have for dinner and stuff."

"Sure, right," Roy agreed, but his heart didn't seem to be in it.

Trisha sighed and reached out, giving his hand a squeeze. "Hey, it'll be okay. Come on, let's go get some punch."

* * *

It was a pleasant enough reception, Edward supposed. There were a lot of really good Mustang stories being shared, and once the press had been shoveled out – it was nice to have some private places in the world – Ed had shared a few of his own before retreating from the chaos.

He discovered, as he stepped out onto the balcony, that he wasn't the only one. Riza – a black-swathed rose beside the white balustrade – was looking out over the garden, quietly, by herself.

"Hey," Ed approached quietly.

Riza looked up, and her contemplative look turned to a soft smile. "Hello, Edward. Thank you for earlier."

On any other day, Ed might have tried to blow it off as nothing. But not today. "You're welcome," he replied. "It's a bit crazy today though, isn't it?"

Riza nodded, but the smile didn't leave. It was sad, and perhaps mildly ironic. "I think it's how he would have wanted it."

"Yeah, he never was one to disdain the spotlight," Ed smiled.

"Edward, do you think Roy knew he wasn't coming back?"

The smile slipped. Of all the questions to hit him with. "I think he knew it was possible," he replied slowly. He didn't want to say the wrong thing and upset Riza any more than he probably already would. "He'd have to. Any one of us going out to try something like it would have known. But I don't think he _planned_ to die, if that's what you're thinking."

Riza shook her head ever so slightly. "No. He wouldn't have done it on purpose," she said. "But he always was one for running headlong into danger. I just… when he wouldn't let me go, I couldn't help but wonder if he really thought he was going to die, or was afraid of accidentally taking me with him."

"The second seems more likely," Ed said. "Any other awkward questions I can answer while I'm here?" He grinned, half-joking to cover his unease.

"Yes," Riza replied directly. "Actually, there is one other thing I've been wondering. I know as a rule Alchemists don't seem to believe in God, but… do you think that after people die, their souls continue to exist? That they can still see what happens in this world, even if they can't be a part of it?"

Ed was almost transported back to the day he'd had almost that very conversation with Roy, after his experiences with extensive Xingese alchemical treatments for his heart. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "I think they do." He waited, wondering what Riza's reaction would be.

She just smiled softly and nodded. "Good. Then I hope he knows… that I forgive him for leaving me behind."

Ed was trying to figure out how to respond to that comment when Feury, gratefully, interrupted. "Hey," he smiled. "A bunch of us are planning to go out later to, you know, pay tribute more appropriately. You want to come?"

A night out drinking. "Who's going?"

"Old crew mostly," Feury replied. "Me, Falman, Breda, Armstrong. Though we invited Kane and a couple of others who've been around almost as long."

"Sure," Ed agreed, wishing that Al were here to come with them. "That is, if Winry will let me." Not that he really expected her to say no. He wasn't going to get drunk after all. It was the thought that mattered, and the company. It would be those who had worked with Roy and knew him best. "Is Marina coming?"

Feury shook his head. "She said she'd rather not dampen the fun," he chuckled. "It's all old dogs." His smile softened a little as he looked at Riza. "Will you come?"

"Oh, I don't know…"

"It's okay if you don't," Feury assured her. "We just thought, you of all of us earned it. It wouldn't be right not to have you if you want to come. You're one of us."

Riza looked flustered, but pleased. "Thanks, Kain. Not today."

"All right then." He turned back to Ed. "If you decide to come, we'll be meeting up around eight tonight. You know where."

It would have been impossible to forget their favorite bar; despite how rarely Ed now frequented the place. "Yeah, I do."

* * *

Winry hadn't fought Edward about going out with the guys. There was no reason for it. He was capable of taking care of himself, and she had no doubts that not only could he keep himself to his own limits, but that no one in the group he was going with would _let_ him drink too much. They knew him too well, and she trusted their friends.

After dinner, she went upstairs to take a bath, then returned back down, comfortable and refreshed, to find the book she had been reading earlier.

Lia sat on the couch, in her nightgown, her feet tucked up underneath her, and her needles were out as she knitted away with surprising speed.

Winry couldn't help smiling at the contented, focused look on her daughter-in-law's face. The blanket – for the mint green and lavender striped item in her hand certainly looked like it would soon be one – draped across Lia's lap. After years of experience, it took little for Winry to note the changes already happening because of pregnancy. As slim as Lia was, it wasn't much of a surprise to see the subtle rounding of stomach that wasn't really obvious when she was dressed for work or moving around. "How's the blanket coming?"

Lia looked up, and smiled. "Quickly," she chuckled. "I can't remember the last time I had the urge to knit this much."

Winry couldn't help but envy Lia's skill, just a little. It was not a skill she herself had ever mastered, but Lia's work looked professional. The gloves and scarf that kept Ethan warm in the winters were just a testament to that. "And where's Ethan?"

At that, Lia blushed slightly. "I was craving strawberries and ice cream. I mentioned it and he insisted on going out."

That was Ethan. "Well that's sweet of him."

"It is," Lia agreed. "But I may have to stop mentioning cravings, or he'll be going out all the time. I've never been so ravenous in my life."

"You get used to it," Winry smiled.

"That's what I'm worried about," Lia admitted with a small shake of her head as she looked up from her work. "Almost all my clothes are already too snug or uncomfortable. I wasn't expecting to outgrow them this quickly."

"Everyone carries differently," Winry assured her. "And with each baby. Sara wasn't too bad, but Aldon and Ethan both liked it out front."

"Maybe this one's a boy then," Lia laughed.

"There's a pretty good chance of that either way," Winry pointed out, just as amused. After all, out of Ed's side, Sara was the only Elric-born girl. If Ethan was anything like Aldon, there was a very good chance for more boys.

"Well that's true," Lia went back to her knitting. "Good thing I like boys!"

Winry found her book on the table and picked it up. She settled down in the easy chair. "It's hard not to like the boys in our family," she agreed as she relaxed.

They sat in pleasant silence for a while, aside from the clicking of needles and the occasional flip of the page. The dogs curled up on the floor by the couch and slept, and Rapscallion perched on the couch, watching the knitting needles and balls of yarn with equal fascination.

It lasted until Ethan came home, and then they all enjoyed the fresh strawberries and vanilla ice cream he had picked up before Ethan and Lia retreated to their bedroom.

It began to get late. Winry looked up from time to time, and wondered how things were going. Now, in the quiet, she began to worry. It wasn't a matter of trusting Edward, but the later it got, the more she wanted to know just what was going on. How long did a couple of drinks take? Oh sure, there would be the dozens upon dozens of Roy Mustang tales – the ones not polite enough for public airing at the reception. How drunk were the rest of them planning to get? It didn't matter how old men got, there were times they still acted like boys. Ed hadn't driven either. How would he get home? Of course, if he was walking, that would explain the delay.

It was just after midnight when she heard the key in the lock. Relieved, she put up her book and went to the door. She was glad she had put on loose knit pants and a top instead of her nightgown earlier when she went into the hallway. The door opened, and Alex Armstrong and Marcus Kane entered. Kane looked a little flushed, but otherwise fine. Alex… held Edward unconscious in his arms.

"Oh my…what happened?" Winry's eyes opened wide.

Startled, Kane gave her a shocked look, then chuckled softly. "He's fine, Ma'am. We offered him a ride back, and he fell asleep in the car."

Fell asleep? Winry felt the first panic drain from her. "Thank you for bringing him home." She looked at Alex, who looked mildly sheepish as well.

"Don't worry, Winry," he rumbled, surprisingly quiet, clearly trying not to wake anyone else in the house. "We took care of him."

Code words for _we didn't let him get drunk. _"Thank you, Alex." Now what to do with him? "Could you… put him in the bedroom?" Why wake him. Besides, she couldn't help giggling. It was kind of cute to see him cradled like a child again. "And… maybe we shouldn't tell Ed he got carried inside like a baby."

Kane snickered. "You'd take away the fun? Well, if you insist."

Winry eyed them both, a little suspiciously. "So who's driving?"

"My wife," Kane replied immediately. "She volunteered. Don't worry. We're too old to do something stupid."

Winry smiled. "Good."

Alex Armstrong had Ed deposited in bed and was back at the door in quick order. "There you go," he smiled. "I'm sorry we're here so late."

"Don't worry about it," Winry shook her head. "I just hope everyone had a good time."

"It was a good night for camaraderie and contemplation," Alex assured her as he headed for the door. "Have a good evening."

Winry saw them out, then shut the door and set Ed's keys on the entryway table so he could find them the next day. She went upstairs and pulled his boots off and tucked him in. "Sleep well," she kissed his cheek gently before getting ready for bed herself. Now, perhaps, the world would move on.

**May 2****nd****, 1965**

_Was it a good night or a bad night that I don't remember coming home and going to bed? _Edward definitely knew the comfortable mattress underneath him, and the warm, supple form of Winry around whom he was curled. Groggy, memories began to return, and all that was missing was the point at which he could not remember getting out of Kane's car. He opened his eyes, and saw Winry awake, smiling at him.

"Good morning, sunshine," she chuckled, and kissed his nose.

Well he clearly wasn't in trouble. "Hi. This is going to sound terrible but… how did I get here?"

Winry looked amused. "You fell asleep in Kane's car. Alex helped you inside. You were pretty tired."

"I guess public speaking takes it out of me," Ed relaxed and pulled her closer.

"Did you enjoy yourself last night?" Winry asked.

Ed didn't need to ask what she really wanted to know. "I did," he replied. "We had a lot of laughs. I'd forgotten some of the more colorful stories," he grinned. "And I had one drink all night. Happy?"

"Did I ask?"

"You wanted to know," Ed chuckled. "And I like to try and give you what you want."

"Well you do a good job," Winry smiled tenderly. "In that spirit, there's one thing you could do for me this morning I would really appreciate."

"Oh, what's that?" Ed asked.

"Okay well, two things," Winry amended. "The first is, help make breakfast."

"Granted," Ed promised, "And the second?"

"Brush your teeth. Your breath smells awful!"


	4. Chapter 4

**May 10****th****, 1965**

It seemed that Edward was just cursed to have to make speeches lately. This one, at least, had a much smaller and more personal audience. After the war, a lot of the volunteer alchemists who had joined up had gone home, though others had hung around Central. Some had heard there would be an announcement of import and come back.

Now, they were all gathered on the parade grounds, and Ed stood on the stairs, just so he could be seen over the heads of the men and women in front of him. It hurt to see how small the number was. Even with the survivors and volunteers, there were maybe sixty people. Still, hopefully this would change things. It was the one thing  
Ed had insisted he had to do before he could feel comfortable retiring from the military for real, and Rehnquist had finally let him know that the Assembly had approved the idea.

"Good afternoon," he spoke up when he had everyone's attention. "I'm glad most of you could make it. For those who aren't here, they'll get word of this, but I have an important announcement to make about the future of State Alchemy in Amestris." He had everyone's undivided attention.

"You, all of you, fought hard in the war. You proved not only to our people, but to Drachma, and to all of our neighbors, that the way we use and teach alchemy in Amestris works. The State Program works and even those who don't become State Alchemists are several notches about anything that could be thrown at us. Over thirty years of work has paid off, and you have all been a part of that. But it means that State Alchemists as we choose them are not _the_ best alchemists in the country; not in the same way we used to be. A lot of knowledge is more easily accessible, quality training easier to find and more morally guided. So many alchemists proved to be comparable, despite a lack of experience, to those of you who were ready to pass the State Alchemy exam when you took it. But it cost us. Our numbers weren't huge, and they've been cut, even with the added help."

Around him, they were somber, but curious. He knew they wanted to know what the big news was. Kane, of course, knew, but no one else did. Not even Sara. "The definition of a State Alchemist needs revision, and given the number of able, willing, loyal alchemists who answered the call in the time of need proved this to the Assembly, and to me, clearer than anything else could have. The Program itself is not going to change, and neither will the exam, however, how Amestris deals with its alchemists will."

"First, positions for alchemists will exist within the government outside of the traditional State Alchemist branch. Alchemists showing non-combative or military skills, such as agricultural or engineering research and other areas, will be utilized more within our State alchemy laboratories and other government offices."

"Secondly, outside of military fields, there will also be government grants alchemists can apply for to assist with other types of research that prove beneficial to people and society."

"Thirdly, and applying particularly to those of you who joined up for military service without prior experience and without any requirement to do so; all of you who took a field commission in the war have the opportunity to stay on in the military and be given the title of State Alchemist; and promoted to the traditional rank of Major."

Eyes widened through the list, and when he stopped, cheers broke out. Finished, Ed stepped down off the stairs into the crowd of alchemists… of family and friends.

"I don't think I'll take that commission," Ethan teased him.

"I didn't think so," Ed laughed.

Sara looked half-irked. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you were planning this!"

"You don't get to know everything, Colonel," Kane cut in, smirking.

"We didn't know if the Assembly would approve the changes," Ed pointed out. He looked around at the crowd. The Tringhams, the four who had survived were there, and he made his way over. "So what do you say, Fletcher?" he asked, joking.

The alchemist who had somehow survived being his second for the entire war laughed. The last few months had been good to him. He looked healthy, but still nearly as lean as he'd been when the war was over. "Not a chance, Ed," Fletcher chuckled. "Elisa did want me to thank you on her behalf for taking care of me though."

"Tell her it was my pleasure." Ed looked at the others. Russell's expression looked dark. Instead of responding, he turned and stalked away. Ed's smile slipped. "Is he okay?"

It was Felix who replied. "He's mad at me," he explained. "I told him I wanted to take the offer of commission."

Clearly Derrick's death was a wound that would be a long time in healing in his old acquaintance. "Well, we shouldn't be going into combat again anytime soon," Ed offered, knowing how little consolation that would be to Russell. "But I know Amestris will be glad to have you permanently." He put his smile back on his face.

"Thanks, Fullmetal, Sir," Felix smiled back.

After another half an hour, the group broke up, some alchemists going back to work, others home, however impermanent. When it was done, Ed headed upstairs. There was still something else he needed to do.

Fortunately, Alan Rehnquist was in his office, waiting for Ed. He grinned. "So how did they take it?"

"Very enthusiastically," Ed smiled. "So the deal's done." He pulled a folded sheaf of papers out of his back pocket and his watch, and laid them both down on the desk. "Here's my final piece of business, just as we discussed." It was, he discovered, harder to set the watch down than he had expected now, after all this time. It was like putting a piece of his heart and soul on the desk with it. But it was time, he knew it. Now it was right.

Alan looked at them, picked up the paperwork, and flipped through it. "Well it all looks in order," he nodded, setting it down. "It will be taken care of today." Then he smiled more informally. "It's been an honor serving with you, Ed."

He grinned. "You too, Alan. A bit too interesting at times, but an honor."

Alan picked up the watch, flipped it over in his hand, then slid it back across the desk. "Keep it, as a memento if nothing else. You've more than earned it."

Ed tried not to snatch the watch up again too quickly. "Thanks," he smiled, and clipped it back on his belt. The weight in his pocket felt reassuring. "You know, you'll still see me around occasionally right?"

Alan laughed as Ed turned to go. "I'm counting on it."

* * *

"Just what is that?" Winry asked, standing on the front porch of her home and looking at the vibrant red sports car parked in her driveway; convertible top down, nice black leather interior gleaming in the sun.

Edward, leaning against the door, grinned ear to ear. "The chariot to whisk you away on the vacation of your dreams."

Did he mean? "So it's done," she could hardly believe it.

"It is," Ed grinned, uncrossing his arms as he came up the stairs and kissed her soundly. "My deal with Alan is finished, and I turned in the papers. I'm retired."

Winry reciprocated the warm arm-wrapping and the enthusiastic kiss. It was news she had waited decades to hear, and here it was! "That means you're all mine."

"Until you can't stand me," Ed chuckled, grinning. "I hope you don't mind about the car. The kids have been teasing me about the old one for years and I figured well, why not? It's not like we need a family vehicle for just you and me."

Winry placed a finger over his lips to stem the tide. "I think it's very sexy, so shut up," she chuckled. It wasn't like they couldn't afford a new car after all this time. Ethan and Lia could use the old one, which she and Ed had kept in perfect working order. Old fashioned, sure, but not in bad shape. "Though I thought we were taking the train."

"Okay, so it'll get more use when we get home," Ed admitted with a shrug. "Or at least, back in country," he had another surprise it seemed, as he held up two train tickets. "But you'd better start packing. We're leaving on the nineteenth for Creta."

Her heart fluttered, and Winry squeezed him tightly again. They had talked – for years – about when they would finally take what amounted to what Ed liked to call a _real_ honeymoon; a long, luxurious vacation, just the two of them. They would see the sights, visit old friends, and enjoy endless amounts of time – within reason – just the two of them. "I love you," she squealed, kissing him again. This was it! It was finally happening!

**May 13****th****, 1965**

"So how long will you be gone?" Sciezka asked with a curious smile as she sipped her tea in Ed and Winry's living room.

"Just a few months," Winry smiled. "We want to be back before Ethan and Lia have the baby."

Ed, on the couch next to her, had his arm around her shoulders. They had invited old friends over for the evening. Before they left, and everyone else went about their plans, they wanted to see them.

"That would be a shame to miss," Sciezka agreed.

"But what about your trip?" Ed asked curiously. Falman and Sciezka had both retired now as well, and he knew they had plans.

"Oh that," Falman chuckled. "We're taking a bit of a pilgrimage ourselves."

"Vato's taking me to see all the great Libraries and Museums of Creta, Aerugo, and Xing!" Sciezka exclaimed with her usual bookish ecstasy.

"That sounds fun," Nancy chuckled.

"Very you," Breda chimed in.

"After that, we're going to spend some time with the family in West City," Sciezka went on. "We were… thinking of moving there permanently."

There was, Ed reflected, nothing now to tie them to Central. "You'd get to spend a lot more time with them," he commented.

"That's the idea," Sciezka smiled. "What about you?" she looked over at Feury and Marina. "Any exciting plans to go along with retirement?"

Marina smiled. "We're moving to East City."

"No surprise there," Falman chuckled. Their daughter and her family lived in East City, and Feury was from there originally. "It's a nice area."

"Full of memories," Feury added, though he was also smiling. "Though I admit it feels so weird to split all of us up after so long."

"It's not forever," Sciezka argued. "Even though we're moving on and doing other things, we're all free to travel. We'll see each other, and there's always letters and the phone."

"Sciezka's right," Winry said. "And it's not like everyone's leaving."

"Or even retiring," Nancy commented with a good-natured groan as she gave Breda an affectionate poke.

"It's coming," Breda argued. "It takes time to transfer work between offices, and there's no reason to rush it before we hand things off completely to the upstarts who think they know more than we do."

"Which doesn't mean we won't be taking a vacation," Nancy replied meaningfully. "Adrienne and the whole Northern family have relocated down to South City. We thought we'd go visit." Nancy's daughter-in-law and grown grandchildren had fled North City. Ed remembered the news that Mitchell, Breda's step-son, had died as they fled.

"How are they doing?" Marina asked.

"Settling pretty well at this point," Nancy replied. They had lived with Nancy in Central for a few months during the war. "Which seems to be all anyone can do now." She glanced in Riza's direction. "And what about you?"

That was the question on a lot of people's minds Ed knew. Riza wasn't the type to sit still and do nothing.

Riza smiled as if she had known the question was coming, and shrugged. "I have things to keep me busy," she pointed out. "Family, and I'm still teaching on the shooting range, and I have my dogs." The descendants of Black Hayate were, Ed knew, alive and well. Riza had always kept a couple of them, bred them, and occasionally even showed them. "Rebecca invited me to visit East City and stay with them for a while. I'll probably do that sometime soon."

"That's nice," Winry smiled.

As the conversation drifted to less important matters, Ed's thoughts were still on Riza. He was glad she'd have something to do. He had wondered, given most of Riza's life had been devoted to supporting Roy in his life and his endeavors. Nearer the end, that had been more equal. But what would her purpose be now? Apparently, she was content to see what happened.

Winry stood up, slipping away from him for the moment. "So does anyone else want more tea?"

**May 17****th****, 1965**

Winry had her head buried in the closet as she worked on last-minute packing when she heard footsteps on the hardwood floor. "Ed, should I take the black or the red cocktail dress?"

"Red of course," Ed chuckled.

"I should have known you would say that," Winry laughed as she took the dress of the hangar. It was her best dress for dancing anyway.

"Though don't pack too much," Ed commented as she turned and tucked the dress carefully into her suitcase. "I won't be able to spoil you if you don't have room to pack the things we pick up."

Winry looked up at him. "We can ship it home," she chuckled.

"Good point." Ed smiled, before glancing back down at an open notebook and a sheaf of papers in his hands.

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

"It's my old rocketry research," Ed admitted sheepishly. "I found it while I was going through some things in the lab." He set the papers down on the edge of the bed. "I was thinking about Europe."

"Any thoughts in particular?" When Ed got nostalgic, it meant it was time to pay attention.

"Just wondering what it would be like to take this trip there," Ed replied, a little more softly. Then he shrugged. "Who knows what's happened there after all this time. Did the war happen? What's gone on in the lives of our friends we made there? What would it be like to stroll through Paris arm in arm with you?" He moved close and kissed her.

"You are such a romantic at heart," Winry chuckled when they parted. "I think it would be lovely, but it's just a nice dream."

"Yeah, I know." Ed smiled. "I'm looking forward to just having you to myself for a while. It hasn't happened in a long time."

"It'll be like being twenty-five again," Winry teased gently.

"I wish," Ed laughed and hugged her. "I don't feel much like twenty-five."

"You sure?" Winry asked archly. "Or are you just finally having a midlife crisis," she teased. "The new car, the trip for two?"

"Nah," Ed chuckled and shook his head. "I haven't done something dumb with my hair or started wearing the crazy stuff the teenagers are. I figure I'm okay."

Thank goodness! "Good." Winry squeezed him. "I like you the way you are. Besides," she grinned wickedly. "You look just as good as you did when you were twenty-five." If not better. Some men got hotter with age; her husband was definitely one of them. "I may have to make sure to keep the girls away from you on the beach."

"I'll be all over you, so I think they'll get the message I'm taken," Ed promised. "I should be more worried about all those beach bums who like to make moves on mature, beautiful women."

"Mature… good word choice," Winry teased him, she pulled away to look at her suitcase. It was difficult to pack for a trip of several months. She had packed the essentials that would work for anywhere they went, but that was it. "So… I can really go shopping?"

"Spoiling you is one of my purposes on this trip," Ed's arms wrapped around her waist from behind. His chin rested on her shoulder. "We've been saving up for years, and you deserve the chance to just enjoy yourself."

Winry clicked her suitcase shut with a firm push. "In that case, I think I'm done packing." She looked over at Ed's suitcase, still open on the bed. "I take it that's why that's all you're taking?" She wouldn't mind seeing him in something new either!

"Partly," Ed chuckled. "That and it's a lot easier to pack when you're a guy."

She saw one good suit, a couple of pairs of pants, a pair of jeans, and a handful of shirts, mostly his usual button-downs and a couple of polo shirts. That and, since Creta was their first stop, his swim trunks. Socks, boxers… and the suitcase was barely half full. Of course, Ed had done this kind of thing for years. "Good, because if I get to spoil myself, part of that means making you try on clothes too."

When she tilted her head to catch sight of his expression, the look of fake-horror made her laugh. A moment later he laughed and kissed her neck. "Whatever you want, beautiful."

"Before we go," Winry turned around and pulled away gently. "I have a present for you."

"For me?" Ed looked intrigued. "What?"

"It's from me, take a guess," Winry laughed as she tugged on his hand to lead him downstairs. Ed followed without argument.

"Something for my auto-mail, right?"

"Sort of." In her workshop, Winry opened up the case that held her latest masterpiece. She had spent months working on her newest set of auto-mail for Ed. It was unique in several aspects; she just hoped he liked it. The lines were smoother, more subtly sophisticated, and the metal more brush-matte than shiny. It was about as high end as she could make it, and as always, she had tried to improve upon it. "So, what do you think?"

"Well it's the prettiest auto-mail you've ever made me," Ed laughed, though his eyes showed definite appreciation. He picked up the arm and hefted it. "Light as always, but definitely not combat grade."

"That's the point," Winry chuckled. "Oh it would probably hold up in a fight as long as you don't go messing with it too much, and it would be fine if you were sparring with Al. I won't make anything I think you could break. But it's not meant to take the same amount of punishment as your old stuff."

She watched Ed examine it closely. "It's…coated in something."

"That's new," Winry smiled. "Another one of the things I've had Ethan work with me on from time to time. That thin coating layer makes it pretty much impervious to rust and chipping, saltwater erosion, and it's meant to keep the metal from heating up as much in the sun or cooling as much in the cold. It helps regulate the temperature of the metal."

At that, Ed looked up. "You're kidding!"

"No," Winry chuckled. "I'm not. It won't make it quite as regulated as human skin, but it will keep the extremes down. Ethan also said that with a little alchemy to guide it, you and he ought to be able to coat your ports with it too. It's not a perfect solution, the edge right up against your skin will probably always be a bit of a problem, but at least you won't have to spend all your time in long sleeves and pants in the summer."

Ed's face lit up, both with surprise and pleasure. Winry laughed as he pulled her close and kissed her again. "You're amazing, you know that right?"

Was he a little misty-eyed? Winry smiled and hugged him, auto-mail stuck between them and all. "I do seem to hear that from time to time," she teased. "I'm glad you like it."

"Like it…" Ed stood back enough to look her in the face. "I think it's the most beautiful thing you've ever made… with the exception of the kids," he added, chuckling.

"Three very good exceptions," Winry couldn't help laughing. "So, do you want to put that on tonight? We can do the coating tonight on your ports too. It doesn't take long to dry."

"Especially not if we help it along with alchemy," Ed nodded. "I think it's a great idea. Then I won't have to be sore on the train."

"Those seats make a person sore enough as it is," Winry agreed. "All right. When do you want to get started?"

* * *

"So, what do you think?"

Edward sat up, flexing the newly attached auto-mail arm and stretching out the leg to get a feel for them. He hadn't been kidding earlier. Winry's auto-mail had always been incredible, but this time he thought she really had outdone herself. He couldn't hear a thing as he flexed the joints and moved his fingers and twisted the wrist. Everything ran near-silent and so smooth it really was like moving his flesh arm and leg. The response was immediate, the balance superbly accurate.

The longest part of the entire installation had been Ed and Ethan working to properly apply the new coating. With alchemy to guide it, it now adorned his port as well – clear and thin enough that it was almost unnoticeable in the difference it made, but Ed was looking forward to testing it out. "It's great," he finally responded to Winry as he stood up and stretched.

"It looks fantastic," Ethan grinned. "We tested the coating on my fingers first," he admitted. "It should work great on your vacation as long as you don't, you know, try sunbathing in it."

"Like I need any more of a tan," Ed chuckled. He'd never been particularly dark, but years of spending time outdoors have given him enough color – and the occasional sunburn. "Even so, I can't wait to give it a really good test run."

"Just don't break it," Winry warned with a familiar glare. "You don't want to know how much time I put into that arm and leg."

Ed shook his head in amusement. "Don't worry, Winry. I'll be careful with it." He turned and gave his wife a fond smile. He could remember so many all-nighters pulled and trips she had made on his behalf. "I think I have a pretty good idea."

**May 19****th****, 1965**

"Pir gave me such a dirty look this morning when he saw the suitcases," Edward chuckled as he pulled said suitcases out of the back of the old car.

Winry, dressed for travel, shook her head and smiled. "He knows what it means when you pack. It's all right. We won't be gone for years this time."

"Don't worry, we'll keep him entertained," Ethan grinned from the front seat of the car. "I'll take him for plenty of walks, and he can go play with Twist at Sara's when Daia gets tired of being bothered."

Ed nodded. "That's better than him pestering the cat."

"Do we have everything?" Winry asked.

"We're not taking much," Ed pointed out. One suitcase each, and Winry's over-the-shoulder handbag that might as well be an auto-mail kit. He was sure her basic maintenance tools were in there, even if it wasn't the huge kit she lugged around at other times. "Don't worry, Winry. This is a pleasure trip, not a mission."

"I'll believe that when we get home without you getting into any trouble," Winry gave him a knowing smile. To be fair, Ed did have a pretty bad track record for running into trouble on any trip, be it a diplomatic mission or even a supposed vacation.

"How much trouble can a guy get into visiting friends and exotic resorts?" Ed grinned back impishly.

"Plenty," Winry and Ethan chorused in unison.

"Don't you start," Ed shot a dirty look at his son. "You've got enough on your hands already."

"Yeah, but I didn't need a resort to get it," Ethan winked and shifted the car back into drive. "Don't worry about the house, everything will be fine. Now have fun... and take pictures!" "I always do," Winry chuckled, and they both waved as Ethan drove off.

Ed picked up their bags. "Well I'll be taking some," he grinned. "I'd like to have a few of you on this trip."

"Oh?" Winry smiled innocently. "I can't imagine why. Might have something to do with the swimsuit I got for this trip?"

The one she had refused to show him... yeah, it was going to be a good vacation!


	5. Chapter 5

**May 23****rd****, 1965**

It took Tore five minutes after he hung up the phone before it sunk in that he actually was going to have dinner with Charisa, just the two of them. It would be the first time he had seen her in person since he got on the train for war. While they had exchanged letters, it just wasn't the same. The restaurant they agreed on wasn't particularly fancy, but it was nice enough. He knew it wasn't a date, but Tore still showered beforehand. After a day of duty that included half an afternoon of taking his turn sparring with new kids in the Alchemy Program, he needed it. His cleanest pair of black pants, a white shirt, and his nice black leather jacket was about the best he had on hand. He figured it would do.

It was impossible not to be a little nervous as he headed to the restaurant to meet Charisa. He couldn't pick her up, since he didn't have a car. He supposed he could have borrowed the Elric's car. Ethan might have let him take the old one. No one touched Edward's new darling, parked and covered and waiting for his return. Still, he suspected she would have turned the offer down.

Even after two years without a visual, Tore knew Charisa on sight. Russet curls fell lightly down her back, and she wore a simple summer-weight sleeve-less dress, slashed cream and sage green, in a Cretan style he was pretty sure. She turned and looked in his direction. It was all he could do not to wave like some kid. She spotted him soon enough, and he felt relief that a small smile came to her face. Tore had spent half the day trying to think of what he would say to her at their first meeting. As it was, words lodged in his throat. None of the witty or clever things came to mind; all lost. "Hi, Charisa," he smiled. "You look great."

"Hi," she smiled back. "Thanks. I'm glad you came."

"Like I'd turn down an invitation from you," Tore chuckled, trying not to feel self-conscious. He didn't want to read too much into it, but he was still a little surprised she'd called at all.

"Well you could have had other plans," Charisa shrugged slightly as they headed inside.

"On a weeknight?" Tore held the door for her. "Not lately."

"Oh, you go to bed early on work nights?" She was teasing him. Tore chose to take that as a good sign.

"Nah, most of my buddies have steadies," Tore admitted. "Prying Cal away from Alyse is like trying to pull a sore tooth out of a tiger. Possible, but it's not a good idea," he winked.

"I have to admit, I never pictured them," Charisa gave him another smile when he pulled out a chair for her before taking his own seat. She picked up the menu and began to look it over. "So, what about you?"

Tore blinked over his own menu. "Me… oh… nobody special." Was she really asking?

"I meant what do you think is good on the menu?" Charisa clarified. "I haven't been here in a while."

"Oh." Tore felt his face flush. "The fish is good."

Fortunately the waiter arrived to rescue him from a near-awkward silence. "What can I get you to drink this evening?"

"Diet cola please," Charisa replied politely.

"Rum and cola please," Tore said.

"And do you know what you'd like to eat?"

"Fish please," Charisa took his recommendation, "With a side salad, vinaigrette dressing."

"Bacon and cheese hamburger, medium," Tore ordered handing back his menu. He looked at Charisa when the waiter left. "Diet? Like you need it."

He expected her to be complimented. Instead she frowned – a cross little expression on her lovely face. "I could say something similar of your choice of beverage."

Tore shrugged. "What's wrong with it?" Wow, had she gotten even more uptight since she went to Creta?

Charisa shook her head but didn't comment, dropping the subject. "Don't worry about it." She crossed her hands and set them on the table. "So… what have you been up to lately?"

"Getting settled in mostly." Tore was grateful for a safe topic. "I moved into the NCO quarters once we got back. Rapscallion isn't too happy with me, but it's nice to have a place of my own." He smiled. "I figure eventually I'll be able to afford a place where I can have the cat."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it," Charisa chuckled, relaxing visibly. "Seen anyone we know lately?"

"Yeah, actually," Tore replied. "I ran into Cecilia Reynolds the other day. Do you remember her?"

Charisa looked thoughtful for a moment. "A little. She was in our class right?"

Tore nodded, grinning. "Yeah. I ran into her and her friend Tracy at the bar not too long ago. It was kind of funny really," he added as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up for a smoke while he waited. "They were trying to find a guy to hook up with."

Charisa's eyes had gone wide as saucers, then her face went tightly white. "Oh really?" She was staring at him. "You mean guys right?"

Tore nodded, feeling suddenly awkward. "No," he shook his head. "Just one..."

"Oh… you didn't!"

Apparently living in Creta and going to college hadn't widened Charisa's eyes to the ways of the world as much as Tore would have expected. Surprising, and yet somehow reassuring. She hadn't changed much at all. "Yeah, I did." He took a drag. "What of it?"

Charisa looked like she might explode a moment, but then in a blink she was back under control. "It's really none of my business," she replied. "I can't believe you told me."

"Sorry." Maybe it had been a little inappropriate. What had he wanted anyway? Jealousy? "Maybe we should try another question."

"Indeed." She looked contemplatively across the table at him. "So… I didn't know you smoked."

That was what the wicked look had been about. "For a couple of years now," Tore shrugged.

"Put it out, please," she replied. She didn't yell. She didn't look disgusted, yet somehow Tore felt like she was resisting both.

He didn't want to argue. Tore reached out and snuffed it, barely smoked, in the ash tray. Any hope of tonight turning into a rekindling of romance, or even of the slowly warming friendship he'd gotten back, seemed stone dead. "Better?"

"Thank you."

This time, the awkward silence was interrupted again by the waiter bringing their drinks, but it only served to accentuate both the discomfort and the lack of a good conversational topic. It was, Tore observed, like a bad blind date only worse, because it was with a girl who used to be his best friend, and they didn't seem to be able to communicate. He sipped his drink, ignored her expression, and waited for his food.

Charisa didn't seem to be sure what to make of him either. Finally, half-way through their food, she offered a weak smile. "So… that thing earlier… that was a joke right?"

"What was?" Tore asked cautiously.

"You wouldn't really have slept with two girls at once."

So maybe she did care. That or it just bugged her. "I would, and I did," Tore replied. He was getting irritated. "Look, I know we haven't seen each other in a while, but I get the feeling you've got a problem with me."

Anger flashed in those big, deep blue eyes. "Well why not? I missed you, and I thought I'd have a nice evening tonight with an old friend. But you… you're…"

"I'm what?" He knew he wasn't going to like this.

"You're completely different," she replied.

"Well what were you expecting?" Tore quipped, leaning back in his chair. "I spent two years in a war zone, not frolicking around some semi-tropical paradise or hanging around Central. You didn't really think I'd be the same kid I was before?"

"I didn't think you'd fall so low either," Charisa retorted.

Enough was enough. "Get off your high horse, princess!" Tore glared at her across the table. "I'm a guy, like any other soldier. I've been shot at, _shot_, attacked by chimeras, half-frozen to death, nearly fried, and had to help bury more dead bodies than you'll ever see in your lifetime." Thank goodness. "I'm not going to ask your forgiveness because I'm not perfect."

"You don't have to wallow in it either."

"Who's wallowing?" Tore retorted. "You make it sound like there's guys in the military that are better than that."

Now Charisa was turning red. "My father—"

"Was a soldier once too," Tore almost laughed. "You think your father and his friends were any different? You wanna place bets that him and the guys didn't go get drunk in bars, pick up women, take them home and have sex until dawn?" He had never thought she might really be that naïve. "They're all war vets half-a-dozen times over by now, Charisa. You want to know what they were like at our age? Go ahead, go ask your father what he was like when he was in his twenties."

Charisa was a veritable rainbow of colors this evening. From red to purple to slightly green in a few seconds flat. Tore wondered if it was some kind of record. "How dare you," she hissed, standing straight up abruptly. "Just because you two don't get along you think-"

"Oh grow up!" Tore cut her off, leaning forward and planting his hands on the table. "This has nothing to do with that! I just spent two years following the man's every order to throw me into danger and his _brilliance _is part of the reason I'm still alive. Why the hell would I hate your old man? He's one of the best commanding officers I'm ever likely to have. _You're_ upset because your pretty little world isn't roses and sunshine and lemonade!"

Instead of the explosion he expected, Tore was amazed as Charisa stared icy daggers at him, then turned and fled the table completely.

Okay, maybe the last line had gone too far, but Tore's pride stung. How could she think so little of him? She'd never griped about anyone else's behavior they knew, even if they were soldiers or the guys in high school who weren't any better.

He couldn't leave that there. Dropping sens on the table to cover both meals – let the waiter keep the change – he grabbed his jacket and followed. Outside, he turned right on instinct. That was the direction of Charisa's parents' house, and he guessed that she would have headed for home. Fortunately, he didn't have to walk that far. He caught up to her outside a small park just a few blocks down. "Charisa, wait!"

She paused and looked behind her. For a moment he thought she was going to take off again, but she stood, waiting. As he neared, she did not look any more pleased or calm than she had a few minutes ago. "Did you want something, Terrence?"

"Look, I'm sorry for the sarcasm," Tore apologized, trying to smooth things over. "But I'm tired of being held up to standards no man has a chance of meeting with you. I don't want to lose your friendship, but friends accept each other the way they are. I'm not perfect, and I'm not going to kill myself trying to be. Right now I'm just happy I'm not dead."

At that last, Charisa seemed to thaw. "I'm sorry too," she sighed. "You've just changed… a lot. I wasn't expecting quite as much, though maybe I should have."

Crisis averted. Tore shrugged. "It's okay, all right? I didn't mean to offend you." Though it just proved the idea he'd had when he was a kid, that it didn't matter that they had both been orphaned at one point; he would never be good enough for her.

Charisa nodded. "I didn't meant to be rude," she apologized in return. "I guess I owe you for my meal, don't I?"

"Don't worry about it," Tore smiled half-heartedly, hoping to salvage something of the evening. "You want to do something else?"

Charisa looked like she wanted to say no, but after a moment she nodded. "Sure. There's a jazz concert in the big park downtown tonight. We could go listen."

"That sounds like fun," Tore agreed, closing the distance between them. At least she hadn't made some excuse to leave. He'd take friendship. The alternative still hurt too much to accept. "Let's go."

**May 24****th****, 1965**

"Are you sure you don't want another helping?"

Lia refrained from glaring at her husband's sincerely curious, concerned, yet slightly amused expression. Her plate – so recently devoid of chocolate-drizzled cheesecake – rested in her hands over the bulge in her stomach. She cocked her head to one side. "Do I look like I need more cheesecake?"

Ethan grinned and kissed her briefly. "Maybe, but I bet you want more."

The worst part was, he was right! She hated her amazing lack of willpower lately. No matter how much she had, or what she ate, she was always ravenous. She had never been a big eater. Was this how Ethan felt? Constantly eating… and yet, Ethan never seemed to put on weight, where-as Lia already dreaded looking at a scale. "If I say yes will you stop looking at me like that?"

"If you prefer," Ethan chuckled and took her plate. Out of a habit he had developed far too quickly, he gave her tummy a little pat as he turned around and headed for the kitchen.

Lia tried not to be embarrassed in front of their guests. Not that Alyse and Cal were formal guests, but it was awkward.

Cal looked like he wasn't sure what to say. Fortunately he still had cheesecake and could put a forkful in his mouth and avoid having to comment.

Alyse giggled. "At least it all stays down right?"

"I almost wish it wouldn't," Lia lamented with a shrug. While she had been nauseous for a few weeks, it hadn't lasted long, and she had almost never lost a meal. It didn't matter that Ethan assured her she just looked pregnant. As much as she appreciated his thoughtfulness, she felt like a glutton, and even the girls at work had shown surprise that she was already in need of maternity wear. "I don't suppose you know any stores that make maternity clothes that aren't hideous do you?" She had gone shopping, and found very little that didn't look like it belonged on a potato.

"Oh sure," Alyse nodded almost at once. "There's several places in town that I know have some of the cutest maternity work-wear."

Cal turned slightly pale. "And just how do you know this?"

Alyse looked up at him, then laughed. "Relax. I've been shopping with Ren a dozen times, and they do sell them in the stores where I buy some of my outfits. There's a particular boutique downtown that caters to working women who don't want to look like men."

Lia smiled, both in relief at the idea of clothing that might look good, and amusement at Cal's concern. It was cute. "We should definitely go sometime then, and you can help me pick out a few things, especially for teaching. Oh! And Ren mentioned this shoe store that she said had the most comfortable shoes."

"Shoes?" Ethan returned, plate refilled. "Am I missing something?"

"Only a plot to relieve you of half your bank account," Cal teased.

"So what else is new?" Ethan grinned as he handed Lia her plate back.

"He has a point," Lia conceded, though her good humor returned quickly. She smiled. "Not with the plans for the nursery upstairs." By the time they had everything ready for the baby to come, they would have spent a decent amount. Though with as excited as her mother was about becoming a grandmother, Lia suspected they would find a lot of that came in gifts.

"Which can be discussed after we get the game started," Ethan chuckled as he laid out the board game they had all agreed on for the night on the coffee table. It was a trivia game. Lia was glad; she preferred those to strategy games and Ethan knew that. This one, though, had enough of a range of knowledge to give everyone a fair chance.

"Sounds good to me," Cal grinned as he sat forward and picked out a game piece.

They rolled to see who would go first, and Alyse got the privilege. She moved her piece onto a square and waited while Ethan picked up the first card. "Okay. You landed on Amestrian History. The question is…" he paused, then snorted a laugh. "What Amestrian State Alchemist was responsible for first uncovering and deposing the 1914 religious conspiracy in Liore?"

Lia chuckled. Even she knew that one! She'd be surprised if anyone at the table didn't.

Still, Alyse played it up, despite grinning broadly. "Oh I don't know…. Uncle Edward… with Dad's help of course."

* * *

"That was fun," Alyse slipped her hand into Cal's as they left the house and walked back towards her apartment. "Ethan and I used to hang out all the time."

"It was," Cal agreed, squeezing her hand and smiling. "It's a little odd sometimes, hanging out with your colleague's little brother, but I'm getting used to it."

Alyse eyed him. He seemed to be at ease with the situation. Easing him into being on friendly terms with her family, and not just professional, was something she had determined to take slowly. Fortunately now, after the war, they all seemed to accept him as a matter of course. At least, those who had gone to the front did. Fortunately her mother and grandmother had been very open to her inviting Cal over to dinner with her a couple of times when he was healing. "I'm glad," she replied. "Though you seemed a little nervous when we started talking babies and maternity wear."

Cal glanced away briefly, his ears turning slightly pink, though he shrugged manfully. "It's not my favorite topic," he admitted. "It's not that I'm not happy for them or anything," he added quickly, glancing back her direction. "I'm just not really good with kids."

"And when do you ever interact with them?" Alyse asked.

"Okay, so I don't know much about them at all," Cal chuckled, then he sobered again. "I've kind of avoided the subject. After the only time it's ever really come up…"

"I don't blame you," Alyse smiled gently. She had learned quickly that Cal couldn't be pushed, and letting him broach difficult topics was usually the best way to get him to talk about them. If a question or two didn't produce a willing response, it was useless to try and force him. In this case, given what she knew about his past with  
Valeria and the miscarriage and breakup, she could see why he shied away from the topic. "Have you ever thought about if you'd want kids?"

Cal didn't drop her hand, but he did slow his steps for a moment. "I've thought about it," he nodded. "But never really in a definite sense. I mean… I've had a total of two_ actual_ girlfriends, present company included. Usually my thoughts were focused on making sure it didn't happen." He picked up the pace again. "I don't hate kids. I just never could really picture myself raising any. I wouldn't know where to start… and I'd be afraid of completely screwing them up."

Alyse had certainly heard worse reasons, though she wasn't sure now was the right time to tell him that _she_ had imagined him with kids plenty of times already. "You start at the beginning and learn as you go," she smiled easily. "And I think you have a better idea of how not to screw them up than you claim."

"You mean just do the opposite of my old man?" Cal quipped. "Yeah, maybe you're right." He gave her another cautious side-ways glance. "You want kids." He didn't even phrase it as a question.

"Eventually," she replied honestly. "I wasn't in a rush, but I love spending time with Minxia and Michio, and my cousins' kids. I'm starting to look forward to having a family."

"I thought so." To her relief, Cal didn't look panicked. "You like to talk about them," he smiled. "And your family's great. I admit at times I've envied you, and Sara. I mean, my Mom loved me, but my family life was lousy."

"As a kid," Alyse nodded. "Though that doesn't mean it always has to be that way."

"It's a little late now to…. Oh." He cut off as he understood her meaning. Cal was cute when he blushed. Alyse wondered if she was the only person in the world alive who had witnessed that particular phenomenon. "Right. I guess, maybe I should think about it some more, huh?"

At his questioning look, she chuckled. "It might be a good idea."

**May 26****th****, 1965**

Another evening alone; there were some times Tore really liked having his own spot in the barracks, and others when he kind of missed living with the Elrics. There, he could wander downstairs and grab a snack, or talk alchemy with Fullmetal, or play a game of cards with Ethan. He even enjoyed chatting with Mrs. Elric or Lia. If nothing else, he could curl up on the couch and be sure to have a visit from the dogs, and a purring cat next to him. Here, unless he wanted to hang out with the guys, he might as well live completely by himself. Some nights hanging out was fun, but seven nights a week would make it pretty dull. Besides, if they went out to the bar all the time he'd run short of cash far quicker than he wanted.

Tore had just resigned himself to an evening at home when his phone rang. "Closson here."

"Hi…Tore? It's Cecilia."

"Oh, hi." He perked up immediately. Maybe tonight wasn't going to be a total loss? "How are you?"

"Good," she replied with a chuckle. "I was wondering if you'd like to come over tonight?"

Was he up for another marathon? Tore hadn't seen either girl since that night, but it had been a rather memorable experience. "Sure, I'd love to keep you ladies company tonight."

There was a pause. "It's… just me."

Oh. Oops. Tore winced. "Sorry," he apologized.

"It's all right. I mean, if you don't want to come over-"

"No!" He blurted, then sighed. "I mean, yeah, I'd still love to come over." He liked Cecilia better than Tracy.

"Really? I mean… fantastic," she seemed to be trying to tone down her excitement. "I was wondering… how do you feel about strip poker?"

* * *

As it turned out, Tore was extremely fond of strip poker, especially with a bottle of tequila and the fact that he almost never lost a hand! Sitting on the bed across from Cecilia, it went from poker to fooling around with natural ease. He was reminded again of what charms she had to offer; her sweet smile, and enough chest to completely overflow his hands. Her playful and inventive ways of turning him on. Despite the home-girl innocence of her dimpled face, she was not an inexperienced girl, and she figured out quickly what he enjoyed most.

It wasn't elegant, it wasn't even really romantic, but the giggling, playful, exhilarating, exhausting romp left Tore contentedly sprawled in her bed, his arms around her sleek, voluptuous form. "I don't know how you do it," he admitted, panting afterwards, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. "It's like running a marathon…"

Her cheeks were flushed with life and pleasure. "Thanks. You make it easy though," she cuddled up against him. "You're such a nice guy…so considerate, making sure I'm having as much fun as you are."

Tore had heard that before, from more than one woman. "I try. It's no fun for me if it's not fun for you." A woman who wasn't enjoying herself ruined everything, but mostly then he felt like he wasn't doing his part right either.

"See what I mean," she sighed contentedly. "You're just like that. I guess…it's okay to admit now I had a crush on you in school isn't it?" She looked up at him, a hint of worry in her eyes. "You were so good looking, and charming…and you didn't even know I existed."

A chord of guilt played on Tore's heartstrings. "You didn't really try and make yourself known," he replied in his own defense.

"I know." She wasn't offended at all. Instead, her expression became wistful and sad. "I figured you wouldn't want someone like me… with a family out of a bad drama and you know, how could I compare with that flock of miniskirt-and-bikini model girls who were always around you?"

Tore didn't remember it quite that way, at least not in the numbers she seemed to think! But then, he supposed, given what she had looked like then, it hadn't taken much to be more attractive that Cecilia. It was sad, really. "You could have tried," he replied a bit more gently. "Or did you think I'd blow you off?"

Cecilia shook her head. "Not you… them. I got picked on and put down enough all ready. All my friends said it wasn't worth it. My mama said not to waste my time."

"Why did your mother think I was a waste of time?" He'd never met the woman, obviously. It made sense for General Breda to not think him worth this daughter's attention.

"Not you…" Cecilia looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Me. She figured I was wasting my time because no one like you would want me."

"What?" How could a mother say that to her own daughter? "You've got plenty of qualities to offer a guy."

"Oh?" She looked curious, and once more pleased. The expression clearly begged an elaboration.

"Well," Tore felt immediately slightly abashed. "You're pretty, and upbeat and…. Creative in bed." He kissed her neck. "And you're not half bad at poker…" he ran his hand up between her breasts. "And you hold tequila better than most girls I know without getting stupid and silly," his mouth reached the edge of her jaw. "And you have fantastic cleavage."

"Anything I could actually _say_ to my mother?" Cecilia tried to sound frustrated, but he could tell from the twinkle in her eyes that she was flattered. It struck him then as slightly sad that those things should seem as flattering to Cecilia as they would infuriate some of the other women he knew.

"I did say you were pretty," Tore replied. His lips found her mouth, and he kissed her. "If we hadn't shared all of the aforementioned tequila I might be more eloquent," he chuckled.

"I think you're doing just fine," Cecilia disagreed. "You're the nicest guy I've ever been with…or known at all. The others… just weren't as kind or sincere…. To put it kindly."

"What about your family?" He knew about her mother, just a bit now. "Don't any of them appreciate you?"

"Daddy thinks I'm a waste of family blood," Cecilia replied matter-of-factly. "My older brother's a jerk who's already been married and divorced twice. We never see him anymore."

His heart went out to her. He couldn't help it. She made his childhood look stable and productive. At least his mother had loved him, and the Elrics cared. "I'm sorry to hear that. I think you're fun to be around."

"I feel like I'm dreaming," Cecilia giggled, snuggling up closer, her soft arms draping around his neck. "You know you can come over again… anytime."

She was so clearly lonely and starved for love. Tore smiled. "Sure. Only next time, let's make a real night of it. You want to go out and have dinner first?"

"Like… a date, instead of just sex?" Cecilia looked startled.

"Unless you don't like dates," Tore teased. "But I've been in your bed twice and I haven't treated you to dinner yet. Call me old fashioned, but that seems wrong to me."

"Well if you insist," Cecilia chuckled, regaining her humor. "I'd love to go out with you."

"Just not this moment," Tore chuckled. "I think…I'm too tired to move."

"Oh?" Light fingers brushed the back of his neck, and Tore shuddered involuntarily. "Let's see if I can fix that."


	6. Chapter 6

**May 29th, 1965**

"So do you think the cats will even remember me?" Alphonse joked as he got out of the taxi and helped Elicia out of the back seat.

"They could never forget you," Elicia chuckled, taking his hand willingly, her other on the brimmed hat on her head so the breeze wouldn't whisk it away. "Though it's a good thing cats don't recognize people by sight first."

"I wonder what your mother is going to think," Al agreed, one hand absently stroking the goatee on his face. It was still trimmed as Elicia had first suggested, no thicker than Maes Hughes' had been, or Breda's really, though it covered more of his chin than that. It was, he had to admit, a bit rakish and did make him look younger now than being clean-shaven had. Different yes; but he kind of liked it. After the last few months it had stopped shocking him in the mirror.

"I think she'll like it," Elicia chuckled as he pulled their suitcases out of the back of the taxi and headed up the drive. "Of course, I think she'll just be glad to have us home."

"Yeah," Al agreed. "Maybe we should have told her we were coming."

"That would take all the fun of out this," Elicia giggled as she pulled out her keys and unlocked the door. "Hello? Anybody home?"

There was a moment of silence, then an "Elicia, is that you?" Hurried footsteps and Gracia - accompanied by two of the cats - appeared in the entry way wide-eyed and smiling. "You're home!" She folded Elicia in a big hug.

Al grinned as he stepped in and kicked the door closed to avoid cats escaping. He needn't have worried. They attacked his legs instead, a mass of purring rubbing fluff. "Missed you too," he smiled, setting the bags down carefully to avoid crushing a cat.

"And you," Gracia's attention turned to him as she opened her arms for a hug, then paused, surprised clearly. She laughed then and finished her approach, closing him tightly in her warm arms. "You look wonderful."

"Thanks, Gracia," Al hugged her back warmly. "I feel a lot better."

"Good." She smiled up at him as she stepped back. "You picked a great day to get back. Everyone's coming over tonight for dinner."

"Define everyone?" Al asked. Not that he minded really. He had come home; he was ready to see his family. He missed them.

"Oh well, I guess I shouldn't say _everyone_," Gracia chuckled as they headed into the living room. "Not with Ed and Winry out of town. Will and Ren are coming with the kids, and Alyse and Calvin are coming."

Al paused, his hand on his favorite chair. "Is this normal?" Every time he went away his family changed on him. At least this time he was reasonably prepared for it.

"He's come over a few times now," Gracia admitted as she slipped into the kitchen. Al heard water and figured it was for tea. "That's all right, I assume."

Elicia was looking at him expectantly, with an amused little smile that almost dared Al to say no.

"Yeah, it's fine," Al smiled and collapsed into the chair. It was so wonderfully familiar. The house, home, at least, hadn't changed much. "They'll be surprised to see us."

"But glad for it," Gracia said, rejoining them. "We've all missed you."

"Hey, I called," Elicia laughed as she sat down on the couch. As everyone settled in they were inundated with curious cats.

Al stroked Orestes as the old male draped across his lap. "Don't worry Gracia, we'll tell you all about the trip," he promised. "We've even got photos."

"And souvenirs judging from the extra bags," Gracia smiled.

"Those too," Elicia agreed. "We've had some fun ideas for redecorating."

"It sounds like a productive trip then!"

Al understood her logic, he thought. If Al could think about home decor, he must be in a better mental frame of mind? Well, she was right. "Well there was a lot of shopping," he teased.

"Which I look forward to seeing and hearing all about your trip later, once dinner's ready," Gracia agreed. "There are a lot of things I'd like to hear about."

* * *

"Daddy!" Alyse couldn't resist grabbing her father up in a big hug the moment she saw him! His return hug squeezed her tight and it was possibly the best hug in the whole world. She felt a little teary with relief and happiness at seeing him as she looked up at his face. "Wow... nice whiskers."

"Well, you know," Alphonse chuckled. "It worked for your brother."

"No... it didn't," Ren teased as she and Will came in right behind Alyse and Cal.

"She's right," Alyse smiled. "But they look better on you." Her father looked decidedly handsome with them. She gave him another squeeze. "Wow... you've been working out too!"

It was worth it to see the embarrassed amusement in her father's eyes. "I had to do something on vacation." He gave her another hug. "But it's good to be home."

"Well you've got a lot to answer for," Alyse scolded gently. "You're not allowed to turn into an old hermit without permission!"

"That's what I told him," her mother smiled, cutting in to hug her too.

Alyse felt ridiculously happy as everyone came in, making room as Minxia attacked her grandparents' legs, and Michio was passed around. There was one brief moment where she caught herself holding her breath, and that was when her father encountered Calvin.

Cal smiled, looking less nervous than she would have expected. "Good afternoon, Sir. It's nice to see you again."

Her father seemed to be considering him, then shrugged and smiled back, if just a little. "Thanks, Colonel. Congratulations on the promotion."

"Thank you," Cal's grin widened into his more natural one; the one Alyse liked most.

Alyse relaxed as her father went over to speak with Will. "That wasn't so bad," she smiled.

"Not at all," Cal took a deep breath. "He didn't even threaten to kill me."

Either her father was feeling better than he had in years, or he had completely had a brain transplant of some form. Either way, Alyse was grateful!

**June 10****th****, 1965**

There was nothing like watching the late afternoon sun dip towards the horizon over the expanse of blue-and-orange where horizon met the sea. Leaning back against the beach chair he'd transmuted out of sand, the warm breeze blowing teasingly across his face and chest, and any other bits of exposed skin, Edward enjoyed the indulgent feeling of utter relaxation.

The loose, white linen shirt he wore open kept the sun off his shoulders and arms, though it let through the breeze. Winry's auto-mail enhancements worked wonderfully, but that didn't mean staying out for hours in the sun with his auto-mail exposed was a good idea.

Other than that, a comfortable pair of red swim trunks was all that separated him from the salty sea air of Creta. Ed sipped his drink and admired the view.

"Is there room for two?"

Ed glanced up to his right at the beautiful woman beside him; blonde, long legs, shapely curves, in a bikini of tropical blues and greens with large white blossoms, and one of those tempting shear beach-wraps that hid little, but kept the sun off and went barely half-way down her thighs. Blue eyes twinkled under a wide, white brimmed beach hat. "If we snuggle," he grinned.

"I think that can be arranged," Winry chuckled as she sat down on his chair and swung her long legs over beside his. She draped her hat over the back and eyed his drink curiously. "So what's that?"

"It's a local specialty," Ed grinned, putting his auto-mail arm over his wife's shoulder. "They call it a pina colada. Though normally it doesn't have the raspberry."

"What's in it?"

"Pineapple juice, coconut milk, ice, rum..." Ed winked. "A little alchemy."

Winry chuckled. "Can I have a taste? It sounds good."

"It's delicious," Ed promised, holding it out so she could reach the straw. He couldn't help chuckling as her eyes widened.

"That's good!" She looked at his glass. "You're _sure_ you neutralized that?"

"Every particle," Ed said. "I've got the trick down pretty well, wouldn't you say?" The taste was almost indiscernibly different now from any regular alcoholic beverage. The only difference was the lack of intoxication or any physical whiff or burn of alcohol.

"Brilliant," Winry agreed, stealing another sip. "I'm going to have to have one of those later. I don't suppose you've found a way to neutralize calories?"

She would ask. Ed laughed and kissed her cheek. "I'll have to make that my next alchemical research project."

"I knew I loved you for a reason," Winry laid her head against his shoulder. "Though I have to say, you took to lazing around on vacation surprisingly well."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult," Ed chuckled. "I figure I've earned a real vacation."

"Well this definitely counts," Winry smiled.

With the sea in front of him, and the large resort hotel out of view behind him and through the trees, Ed was in agreement. When he told Winry he wanted to live it up, travel, relax and spoil her on what amounted to a second – though really it was more of a first – honeymoon, he had meant it! "The feast tonight should be fun."

"I knew it," Winry poked him in the abdominals. "You dragged me all this way to this beautiful tropical paradise just so you could eat the food."

"They have an _entire_ roast pig in that pit in the sand," Ed replied. "An entire pig, stuffed with fruit and wrapped in leaves and spices! Aren't you even curious?"

"Curious, sure," Winry teased. "But I'm not salivating over a meal that's almost two hours off. _I_ didn't come here to stuff myself."

"In that swimsuit I hope not," Ed grinned, purposefully eyeing her up and down in a way that would have gotten him killed if he had been any other man leering. Okay, even him if he had _actually_ leered.

Winry flashed him a smug grin. "I knew you'd like it when I picked it out."

"Well sure," Ed chuckled. "But I like you in anything… or less."

"Less comes later," Winry promised.

Ed felt his heartbeat speed up, and he almost laughed out loud. Winry said these things just to get him stirred up, he knew it. Still, he liked it too much to ever ask her not to! "I look forward to it," he replied, his voice softening as he leaned over and kissed her.

"Hey, Old Man, get a room!"  
_  
Old man? _Ed glanced sideways and spotted a couple of twenty-something tanned boys with surfboards snickering. He smirked. "You're just jealous!"

"Edward," Winry hissed at him.

"What? It's true." Ed grinned at her.

"Well you shouldn't be pawing all over pretty women on the beach!" the tallest of the guys called back.

Ed couldn't help winking at Winry. "I told you so."

There was a disbelieving look on her face that, Ed felt, made her look even younger. "Are they blind?"

Ed kissed her again, partially for effect and partially because she was irresistible. "Not at all." Then he turned back to the guys in question. "If you're ogling my wife you can answer to me."

"Wife?" A couple of them looked nonplussed. Then the tall one grinned. "What'd you do to win over a woman like that?"

"More than you can manage," Ed snickered. His mood couldn't get any better!

Two of the other guys seemed to converse for a moment, then the shorter one grinned. "Then show us what you've got!" He held up his board meaningfully.

Surfing. Ed had never tried it, but he had spent the last couple of days on the beach watching them at it. If he hadn't had on Winry's water-proof well balanced auto-mail – and a couple of decades of swimming experience more than he'd had as a kid – he would never have considered it. "You're on!"

"Edward! Are you crazy?" Winry asked as he stood up.

"I can't back down from a challenge," Ed pointed out as he took off the white linen shirt and draped it across the chair. Then he kicked off his sandals. "Besides, if I don't they'll be hitting on my woman next."

"_Your woman_ can take care of herself," Winry replied archly. "But watching you try surfing should be fascinating."

"Good thing I learned to swim," Ed turned around and headed towards the young men who were waiting. "All right, gentlemen. Let's get to it!"

* * *

Winry's concerns were quickly disproven as she watched Edward speaking with the young athletes for several minutes before one of them loaned Ed his board. It was funny, almost, contrasting the group. The young men – mostly Cretan – were dark haired and dark tanned, and mostly taller than her husband, but Ed's confidence and physical prowess made him stand out in a way that was different and yet not inexperienced or beneath anybody. That just wasn't Ed.

She watched them paddle out into the ocean, stifling the old worries as she watched Ed out on the deep water. With the next big wave, she momentarily lost sight of them. Squinting into the lowering sun, she saw the small shapes up on top of the wave. Winry felt a small thrill inside when she identified Ed's long blonde ponytail in the middle of the pack.

The guy who had given Ed his board stood watching nearby. One hand over his eyes, he was grinning. "Wow… he's not half bad."

"He's pretty good at picking up this kind of thing," Winry chuckled.

"Is he an athlete of some kind?" the guy asked, glancing down at Winry. "I mean, that seems weird with the auto-mail, but he looks like one."

If Ed hadn't told them who he was, Winry wasn't going to spoil the surprise. "He's a martial artist," she replied, not lying but not telling the complete truth. "He trains soldiers in hand-to-hand combat techniques."

The guy whistled. "If Mako had known that I'm not sure he'd have made the challenge."

"At least he didn't try and fight him," Winry replied.

He grinned. "Yeah, Mako's okay in a fight, but he's no trained expert." His expression softened, just a little. "Did he… fight in the war?"

Winry smiled. These kids weren't so bad. "He's been in a couple of them."

Ed wasn't doing anything fancy, and Winry was no expert, but his form must be okay if he was still on the board. As the wave crested and the surfers came back on shore, he was grinning, exhilarated. "Winry!" He waved at her, shouting to cover the distance. "What'd you think?"

Winry giggled at the youthful joy on his face. "I think it's a good thing you learned to swim!"

"Tease. You mind if I go again?"

"Go ahead!" He was enjoying himself, how could she say no? Besides, she was enjoying watching him.

"Great!" And he ran off again with the surfers. This time, the one who had been chatting with Winry followed, leaving her momentarily on her own. She didn't mind. She liked watching him, and she was happy that they could just relax. Winry certainly didn't want to rush into what remained of their lives.

* * *

"You know it's only going to get added to your legend," Winry teased Edward as they sat at one of the long feast-laden tables under the trees by the beach.

"Hey, they liked the tattoo and asked who I was," Ed shrugged, though he had been rather amused by the looks on the guys' faces when he'd introduced himself, simply, as Edward Elric. Apparently he really didn't need to add more than that anymore. They had surfed for over an hour before someone wanted to know his name beyond 'Ed.' They'd also been curious about the auto-mail, though they hadn't asked much about it. Mostly they had just been impressed with his dexterity while having it. "It's not my fault it never occurred to them legends might enjoy having fun."

"And eating," Winry chuckled.

"I think that's been well established," Ed laughed as he leaned back in his chair, relaxing. The truth was he was already stuffed full. This south-western part of Creta, more tropical than the parts he had spent most of his time in, even along the ocean, certainly knew how to feed their guests!

"I'd say so," Winry agreed with an amused shake of her head. The wreath of red tropical blossoms on her head shook and moved against her hair. The effect was quite striking. All the women at the feast had been festooned in the same manner upon arrival, but the colors had varied. Ed knew it was coincidence that Winry's flowers happened to be red, but they suited her.

"What are you staring at?"

Ed blinked, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. "A pretty girl."

He would never tire of seeing Winry blush. The look of pleasure on her face with any sincere compliment made him wish he had given her more in their lives. "You're sweet."

A sudden eruption of drums drew Ed's attention. The tables had been set along three sides of a large square, the middle of which was a sandy area in front of a simple wooden stage. In the middle of it now the same dancers who had bedecked the women with flowers before were now moving out into the area. It wasn't like Romani dancing, but there was a lot of hip movement, and the woven skirts and bare shoulders and stomachs of the dancers flashed as the women spun. There were men too, but Ed didn't find his eyes drawn to them. Or the women for long really, except as part of the intricate piece they we doing.

"It's really something," Winry smiled as they watched. "I heard they're offering lessons after the show."

He didn't even have to look at his wife to know she was looking at him. Ed glanced her way and shook his head. "No way I'm getting up and doing that." It wasn't that it wasn't cool, it just… wasn't his thing. Some dancing was, and some really wasn't. "Though I think you'd be great at it," he grinned rakishly.

"You just want to watch me."

"I have a beautiful wife," Ed said. "Why shouldn't I like it when she shows off?"

"You think I'd be any good at it?" Winry asked, apparently surprised by his response. Had she expected him to not want her to? Or was she more self-conscious about it than he had realized? Sitting there in the flowers, and the simple but elegant sundress she had slipped over her swimsuit for the party, she looked stunning, and exotic herself; the country-girl blonde stood out like a lily among most of the guests.

"Yeah, I do."

He was right, of course. Winry, never one to really be shy once she decided something, proved to be more of a natural than some of the other girls – even a lot of the younger ones – at moving her curves the way the dancers were teaching. Sure, a lot of the younger girls knew how to _flaunt_ their curves, but Ed thought it was too much. They tried too hard and it took away a lot of the natural beauty of the movement.

Winry's hips… okay, so he had always been partial to Winry's hips, but she moved with an understated grace that was no less enthusiastic than the others, and showed a mature confidence that the women other than the professional dancers.

Watching her… gave him ideas.

"Hey," Ed waved over one of the waiters.

"Did you need something, Sir?"

Ed nodded, though he waved away the offer of a refill. "Yeah. I need you to tell me something…"

* * *

"Just where are you taking me, Edward?" Winry asked, still perplexed as Ed led her by the hand through the rocks. He had nearly stolen her away from the dancers after a while, insisting there was something she had to see. But how did he know where they were, or what it was?

They had gone way down the beach, and then up into the rocks and cliffs that continued to edge the ocean. She was glad she was wearing shoes, even if they were just slip-ons.

"Just a little farther," Edward promised, grinning breathlessly back at her, eager as ever. It must be something special.

A rushing sound reached her ears, and a minute later they came around a bend and she nearly ran into Ed's back when he came up short.

It was a waterfall. Under the star-strewn sky it shimmered and flashed as it fell, like a spill-way of the night sky itself, into a freshwater pool before it continued its way down to the sea. "It's breathtaking."

"And completely private," Ed slipped an arm around her waist. "I've been assured that no one will bother us here."

"Bother us?" Winry turned her head. "Just what did you have in mind? Something dirty no doubt."

"I'm appalled at your accusation," Ed laughed. "You're close though. Come on; don't tell me you've never wanted to go skinny dipping in a waterfall." His arm moved and the next thing she knew Ed was stripping out of his shirt, kicking off his shoes, and even pulling off his swim trunks. Then there he was, standing before her, hands on his hips… moonlight glinting off well-sculpted muscle.

"Well how can I say no to that?"

"You're turn then."

"Maybe you really are turning into a dirty old man," Winry smirked as she rolled her eyes, but slipped off her sundress and slipped off her shoes.

"It'll never happen," Ed shook his head as he stepped in close and pulled his arms around her. "Cause you never get any older."

Her skin flushed, and Winry leaned into the kiss that came so naturally out of the moment. She didn't even smack him when she felt his hand slip around to the back clasp of her bikini top.


	7. Chapter 7

**June 12th, 1965**

Jean Stevens hurried through the streets of Buzcoul in civvies. He couldn't have said why he felt the urgency, except that the mission he was on was personal, and the thought of seeing her again - even if they had always been just friends - excited him. He wanted to tell her about his news; his transfer to Briggs! He would be right nearby instead of just coming to visit his Grandfather in the summer. He was halfway to where she worked when he spotted the girl he was looking for, lugging heavy looking bags of groceries. In the crowded afternoon street - warm for Buzcoul, a balmy sixty degree June day - he found it easy to sidle up almost behind her. "Hey, Noelle, need some help?"

Noelle jumped at the voice behind her, "Oh, you scared me! Wait a minute, Jean? I haven't seen you in awhile, but it is summer, isn't it?" She smiled with relief. "Yes please, if you could take one of these, I would appreciate it. I think I got a bit carried away shopping, but everything looked so good!"

Jean grinned and took the heavier of the two bags in his arms. His ice blue eyes danced merrily under his light blond hair. "Well I _am_ here to see Grandpa," he chuckled, "But given how little time-off they're giving these days, aren't you even the least bit curious why I'm here?" The last time he had seen her had been when his unit came through Buzcoul almost six months before.

Noelle returned the grin, "Do I have to play twenty questions with you?"

Jean flashed his best smile at her. "Do you _want_ to play with me?"

She stiffened slightly before relaxing, "Since you're asking, that means you're here for more than just a visit with your grandfather, right? Wait, does that mean?" She looked expectantly to Jean.

"Two things," Jean smiled, trying not to come off as nervous. He enjoyed flirting; he just hadn't ever really aimed it much at Noelle. He'd been too afraid of scaring her off when they were kids. "The first is the fact that I've just been transferred from West City to Briggs. So I'm moving up here!" He hoped she was happy about that.

"You're moving up here?" Noelle repeated, her eyes wide with shock. Then, she laughed happily, "That's great!"

Jean felt a surge of relief at her pleasure in that fact. "That was my thought," he chuckled. "I always loved coming up here in the summer and hanging out with you."

Noelle's face blushed as she chuckled, "With me? I seem to remember a lot of other kids around at the time. Or there were before people started pairing off and getting jobs in high school. Actually, I did miss that last summer, the group of us hanging out."

Jean swallowed. It was a perfect opportunity, he just hoped he didn't blow it. Girls seemed to enjoy flirting with him, but his track record for long-term dating was pretty spectacularly... not. "Me too," he agreed easily. "But I meant you... specifically." He glanced sideways. "I was wondering if maybe... you'd like to go out sometime?"

Noelle froze for a moment before stammering, "Like a date? What am I saying, of course you mean a date. Not that a date wouldn't be nice, I.. I'm just not sure. I mean, I'm not trying to string you along, I'm not seeing anyone else right now, it's just… I'm nervous, all right?"

Somehow, her nerves made him feel better. Jean chuckled. "It's all right, I get it. And yeah, I mean a date. I guess I ought to come clean and tell you...I've had a crush on you since I was twelve."

"You have?" Noelle asked, stunned. Her face blushed again as she blurted, "Why wait until now to say something?"

"Because... I figured you'd turn me down," Jean admitted. She still might, but he had to be honest. "I don't know... I was nervous. You're pretty, and well liked, and I just figured I wouldn't stand a chance. But I'm not that much of a coward now," he winked.

"Oh stop that," Noelle said, her face coloring even more. "You boys, you all seem to try your best to make me blush."

"I mean it!" Jean replied vehemently. "I like you...a lot. Maybe more than like." Really, he wanted the chance to find out, but he was pretty sure it would turn into more than like quickly, given how long it had lasted already. "So, please? It doesn't have to even be a big formal kind of date or anything. I just want to spend time with you again. I've missed you."

Noelle smiled, "Sure, why not? It's been awhile for me though, going out on a date. I don't think I'd like something big and formal to start with either."

"Awhile huh?" That sounded good. "So you're... not still seeing that alchemist guy." Jean almost stuffed his own foot in his mouth. Why had he even mentioned him? "I mean... sorry. Yeah, casual is good."

"No, I'm not," Noelle answered quickly, looking down to the sidewalk. "I wrote him a couple times, but we're not dating or anything." She looked up to Jean with an impish grin. "Does that help? I'm completely free for going out and you won't have any irate boyfriends coming to chase you down."

"Good," he smiled, relaxing. She was so cute with that smile! "I'd hate to have to fight them to the death."

Noelle giggled, "I'm pretty sure if you stand far enough away, you'd be able to get a shot in before any alchemy got to you."

I'm not so sure about that," Jean laughed. "I'm fast, but I've seen those guys. I don't ever want to fight one unless it's a good old fist-fight, and even then I'd probably lose."

"I'm pretty sure you could get a few good shots in," Noelle said, her eyes twinkling.

"I appreciate the confidence," Jean replied, feeling warm inside. This was comfortable, easy, and just how he'd hoped it would go. So far so good! "Though I'd rather spend that time with you instead."

She blushed again, "I'm going to have to get used to this, aren't I?"

Jean nodded and went for a slightly bolder statement. "As long as you're going to allow me to stick around, then yes!"

"As long as you don't flirt too outrageously, I think I'll let you stick around," Noelle laughed.

"What qualifies as too outrageous?" The last thing he wanted to do was push too far, too fast.

Noelle stopped walking and looked to him with a questioning face, "You really want to know?"

"Well sure I do," Jean paused, wishing he knew what she was thinking. "I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Flirting is supposed to be enjoyable for both sides right?"

"I haven't thought that way for awhile now," Noelle said, biting her lip. "I really don't like flirting that implies getting physical, I got far too much of that last year. As it is, it's still hard to let anyone flirt with me, be it innocent or otherwise."

"Soooo... okay." He wasn't really sure there was anything to say to that. Certainly he had nothing clever to say in reply. It was fair, but he wondered what had happened to her last year. Did this have something to do with the alchemist he'd seen her with? Had the guy done something to her? No, maybe not? She said they had written a couple of times. "Not that I was going to ask about that." Not immediately. He wouldn't have minded, but he wasn't really that kind of guy. "I'll follow your lead then. How's that?"

"Don't worry too much," Noelle smiled. She started moving again, "I've been letting you flirt so far, right? I only let special people do that."

Special. It was Jean's turn to blush. He was grateful his whole face wasn't the go-red type. His ears felt hot though. "Oh good. So, where are we headed with these?" He motioned at the bag in his arms. "Your house or your uncle's clinic?"

"These are for uncle's place," Noelle answered. "Last week, his place was pretty full so we needed to stock back up."

"In the summer huh?" Jean smiled. "Summer colds or winter babies?"

"A bit of both!" Noelle answered with a laugh. "And there were quite a few rambunctious kids who had various summer injuries come in as well."

"I know what that's like," Jean chuckled. He'd been patched up for scrapes and bruises by Noelle's uncle a time or two. "I'm sure Doc Horace will be glad to see me without my being a patient for once."

"You're right about that," Noelle grinned. "You're even helping out as an added perk! He'll definitely like that."

"Good. I'd rather not get on the bad side with any of your family," Jean grinned back. Good side... definitely staying on the good side.

Noelle laughed, "I think you'd have to get me pregnant and run off to truly get on my family's bad side." As soon as the words were out, she turned red from her neck all the way to her hairline. "That's… probably not what I should have said."

Jean nearly tripped over his feet, but managed to catch himself, and the bag of groceries. His ears were burning now. "I ah... guess I'm not in any danger then for a while right?" he responded, putting a grin back on his face.

"I hope not?" Noelle squeaked a little, face still on fire. "Are you sure I'm the one you've been crushing on? You know, the girl who just blurts out anything before she thinks?"

Jean paused, just long enough to get the bag righted in his arms, and stepped just a little closer. "That's one of the things I like most," he admitted, speaking a little more softly. "I always know where I stand with you."

Noelle bit her lip before offering a small smile, "You actually like it? I think that's a first for me."

"You're kidding?" Jean couldn't believe it. Noelle's honesty and her way of saying what she thought were things he found highly endearing.

"No, I'm not," she answered seriously. "I know lots of people who put up with it, but I can't say that someone has ever told me that they like it."

"Well I'm... surprised," Jean admitted. "It's just so rare to find someone where you don't have to guess what they think about you... or anything else."

While she still looked embarrassed, she also looked pleased at his comment. She grinned a little, "Does that mean you're giving me permission to just blurt whatever comes to mind?"

Jean's smile softened. "It means I always want to know what you're thinking."

**June 14****th****, 1965**

The Ocean streamed towards them, splitting at the prow of the ship. Down in the water on the starboard side, Ed couldn't help but laugh at the playful gamboling of the dolphins in the water. "Look at that!"

"I see them," Winry smiled.

Ed noticed that her grip on his arm was a bit tighter than usual. "Are you all right?" He looked over at his wife. "You're not scared?" She looked nervous. They had agreed to take this tour to the islands off the coast of Creta and go hiking, but the only way there was by boat on the sea. Ed had been on the ocean before… well, the Mediterranean Sea and crossing the English Channel, if those counted.

Winry smiled back at him. "Not really. Just a little… nervous about standing so close to the edge."

"The water is pretty deep." Ed couldn't say he blamed her for being cautious. Falling overboard would not be deadly – especially not with dolphins around to keep away sharks – but it would not be a pleasant experience. "You want to sit on the deck chairs for a while instead?" They could watch the view from there. The ship carrying about ten couples island-ward wasn't all that large.

"Or at least stand on the upper observation area," Winry suggested. It was higher up, but it also wasn't right over the water.

"Let's do that." Ed smiled as they stepped away from the rail and moved to the more secure location.

"You know," Winry smiled, "You're a lot more accommodating than you used to be."

"I've learned a lot," Ed replied. "And I like to think I'm less selfish."

"Can't argue there." Winry rested her head on his shoulder, clearly much more comfortable away from the direct drop into deep water. "You know… this is pretty, but I can't help thinking that Resembool is prettier than the ocean."

The open expanse of water and sky versus the green rolling hills and snow peaked mountains. "I agree." Now seemed as good a time to mention his idea as any; now that she had brought up Resembool. "In fact, I've been thinking about Resembool a lot lately."

"Homesick?" Winry chuckled.

"Yeah, sort of," Ed smiled at her. "Actually, I was thinking about building a house there."

"Our family has a house," Winry looked up at him, bemused. "Though I'll admit it's a bit crowded when we visit now."

Not that they didn't like that fact! The old Rockbell house felt like home, stuffed with seven happy Elrics. "I know," Ed smiled. "I just thought that, if we wanted to spend more time there, we shouldn't put Aldon and Cassie and the boys out of spaces to do it, and with Ethan and Lia having kids of their own, there's always going to be someone in our Central house."

He had Winry's full attention. "So you'd like to build a house for us in Resembool too. You'd like to stay longer."

"I am retired," Ed grinned. "And yeah, I'm really starting to miss the peace and quiet. But I don't want to build a little house. I want to build a house big enough to actually fit all of our hobbies, the things we enjoy, and room for as many guests and family members as could ever want to come stay."

"Sounds more like a mansion than a country cottage," Winry chuckled.

"Okay, so what I really want is a farmhouse that's as big as a mansion," Ed laughed. She was right about that. "With room for our full library, and your workshop, and the alchemy lab, and a huge living room, and a gourmet kitchen. Room outside for real gardening. I have to admit… I've always kind of wanted to try planting a small garden like the ones we saw in the Imperial Palace in Xing."

"A meditation garden. That would be nice," Winry agreed, looking thoughtful now. "You know, I really like the idea. Especially since it would give us someplace to stay long-term in the winter," she winked at him. "That'll take a good piece of land though."

He'd thought that out too. "I know," Ed replied. "And we already own the spot I have mind." After all, how long should that hill really stay empty? The old tree had fallen down years ago.

Winry's eyes widened in understanding. "That would be a nice place," she agreed. "But don't you think maybe we should ask Alphonse?"

"We should," Ed agreed, sighing. He hoped Al liked the idea. "I want room for him and Elicia too, so they can come and stay as long as they like. I want it to be a home as much as the other houses are."

Winry gave his hand a squeeze. "Call Central and see about getting in touch with Al about it. I think he'll say yes, and I'm sure with as much thought and love as you've already put into the idea, it will be as much a home as any other house we've lived in."

**June 20****th****, 1965  
**

"Mail's here," Sara grinned as she stepped through the door to find Franz and the kids on the floor playing with a huge stack of blocks. It didn't matter how old kids – or men – got, there was apparently something fascinating about blocks.

At the moment, they seemed to have used every block in the house to build two opposing forts, and were using leftovers as ammunition to try and knock each other's walls in.

Franz looked up at her and grinned sheepishly. "Siege tactics practice."

Sara refrained from rolling her eyes. "Like they're going to need that any time soon."

"We'll need it in winter for snowball fights," Trisha replied impishly.

"That's months away," Sara chuckled. "Anyway, does anyone want to know what Grandpa and Granny have been up to? They sent a letter, and I think it has pictures."

"Oooh, pictures!" James looked up, in time to get popped in the nose with a soft block. "Hey, no fair!"

"Take advantage of your enemy's weaknesses, especially when he's distracted," Trisha grinned.

"Okay, I think we're done for now," Franz grinned, groaning a little as he stood up, and Sara heard his knees and back crack.

Her feelings softened a little as she watched him fondly. Nearly six months had passed since he nearly died covering Mustang's backside on the front. Franz was healed up, healthy, and back on duty same as she was, but that didn't mean she was completely over worrying about him. "Need a back rub?"

"Need, not really, would enjoy… very much so," Franz chuckled, eyes sparkling behind his glasses. "After news."

"Right." Sara pulled out the letter, which proved to be a two-page detailed account of their entire trip across Creta, visiting with the Argyros family on the way, and a lot of time spent at a resort on the coast. Sara tried to picture her parents in a fancy resort hotel. She could see Mom in that environment pretty well, but Dad? It was amusing. But there were pictures. Of the Argyros family, and of the resort, and the beach, and a huge festival of some sort. Then there was one of them together on the beach.

Franz, leaning over her shoulder, chuckled. "Wow, you never told me your Mom was hot in a bikini."

Sara looked up at him straight-faced. "Would it have mattered?"

"They always say girls age like their mothers," Franz grinned, bending down and kissing her cheek. "Every man likes to know his beautiful wife is going to be just as gorgeous for the rest of her life."

"Smooth line, Heimler," Sara shook her head, but couldn't help smiling. "They do both look really good." Her parents looked happy and relaxed in a way she didn't get to see often enough. They had always been a close family, but her father was such an intense person, and they both worked hard. Seeing them on a real vacation was a rare and enjoyable thing. Still, she missed them. "I hope the rest of the trip goes as well as it sounds like it has so far."

"Oh I'm sure it will," Franz promised. "If they get bored, they're pretty good at finding a way to spice things up."

Sara laughed. "That's what worries me."

**June 21****st****, 1965**

Since he hadn't actually graduated, it felt kind of strange to be at an unofficial summer high school class get together. Tore had been surprised to be invited at all, though as he looked around he realized that even though he hadn't seen a lot of them in a while, he was still friends with several, and on good terms with most of them. Most of the high school social drama he remembered also seemed to have lessened. _Nice to know everyone else grows up eventually._

In reality, Tore probably would not have come if Cecilia hadn't been so eager when they heard about it. It was really the most cheerful he had ever seen her, and when she begged him to come along as her date, how could he refuse? She'd been wearing a really distracting push-up red tank top at the time.

She had begged him to meet her so they could come in together too. Not that he minded. They'd been sleeping together for weeks. Not every night, but enough that he was beginning to think he ought to start thinking of her as a girlfriend more than a multiple-night stand. Cecilia liked him, and just the way he was.

Cecilia looked good today too, he thought. She was – like most of the girls – wearing a skirt. In this case, a spring-green ivy-print knee-length sun dress with the deep-V neckline she seemed to love wearing with almost everything. The dress accented her chest and hips, and made her waist seem narrower than it was. Her abundant riot of blonde curls was down, despite the heat. She'd insisted it looked more sophisticated.

As Tore got them two cups of soda, he noticed a lot of guys eyeing Cecilia with surprise, and he knew why she had gone through all the trouble. _I bet most of them don't even recognize her. They're wondering who the heck she is, and if she's even in our class or just with me. _It was every unpopular girls dream, he guessed, to show up looking fantastic.

"This is great," she beamed at him when he handed her a drink. "Isn't it nice to see everyone?"

"Well they sure seem to be noticing you," Tore grinned.

Cecilia blushed slightly. "Are they, really? I thought maybe, but I wasn't sure."

She was cute when she got flustered. "Definitely," he assured her. He had learned quickly just how much of her self-esteem issues she kept buried under the outward smiling face. She tried so hard now.

"Thanks."

Tore drank his soda and looked around the party, trying to decide who to talk to first. It didn't take long. He spotted Charisa almost immediately with a knot of the crowd they had always hung out with, and he knew Charisa still did a lot. Tore tried to keep up; a couple of them were in the military now and they hung out. He tried not to think about a few notable faces that weren't here…. Guys who had died in the war, ordinary soldiers he had only heard about later. "Hey, there's the gang. Come on," He smiled, taking her hand. "I'd like to introduce you." If she wanted to feel fabulous, why not hang out with the kids she had clearly wanted to spend time with in school at last?

To his surprise, she hesitated and didn't move immediately. "Oh I don't know…"

"Come on," he paused, and smiled. "You're a nice girl. I'm sure they'll like getting to know you."

Cecilia did not look convinced, but he watched a smile appear on her face anyway as they joined the group. "Hey guys," Tore grinned.

A couple of guys smiled, at least one gave Cecilia an approving look-over. "Tore! I didn't think you'd show," Jake commented, though it was a friendly jibe.

"It's not graduates only," Tore shrugged easily. "And I was invited."

"Too bad," Chad chuckled. "It'd be more exciting if you'd crashed the party."

"You look familiar," Jake turned to Cecilia. "But I thought I knew everyone."

Cecilia's confidence seemed to rise at being noticed. "I'm Cecilia."

Faces went black, and then Chad whistled. "Well, you look great!"

Cecilia flushed with pleasure. "Thank you, Chad," she replied with surprisingly collected grace. Tore couldn't help but be impressed. Her hand on his arm was tighter than it looked.

"You're not the only one who came with a date," Jake commented, looking slightly disgruntled. "Though this one is a party crasher."

"Oh?" Tore was a little surprised. Maybe he was after one of Jake's old girlfriends.

"Take a gander," Chad thumbed over his shoulder.

Tore's eyes followed, and he spotted Charisa – gorgeous as always, hair down, in a navy blue sun-dress with white slashes on the skirt that stopped just below her knees.

It was the guy next to her that Chad was clearly referring to. He was tall, with a sea-coast tan, dark hair, dark eyes, certainly 'threat of stealing your girlfriend' handsome, and dressed a bit formally for the occasion, in a dark brown designer suit, though he had taken off the jacket and was in his shirt and tie. "He came with Charisa?"

"With or behind," Jake replied. "She didn't chase him out though."

Watching her smile and chat with him, Tore supposed him to be a Cretan acquaintance. Probably a college friend. "What's his name?"

"Don't know yet," Jake said. "We haven't been properly introduced."

"Well then let's fix that." Tore grinned. "Come on."

Once more Cecilia hesitated, but she followed. "I don't think this is a good idea," she whispered frantically to Tore.

"Why not?" Tore didn't worry. Cecilia would see soon enough that Charisa was perfectly nice. Whatever she thought had happened in high school was certainly all in her head. Charisa wasn't mean to anyone.

The tall, dark guy spotted them first and said something quietly.

Charisa turned around and a smile began to form on her lips until she stopped, and it faded away. "Terrence," she replied, eyes riveted on him specifically. He knew that posture. "How are you?"

Formal, a little cool but not rude; she wasn't as happy to see him as he'd hoped. "Pretty good," he smiled, determined to make the introduction as smoothly as possible. "Enjoying the party?"

"I am," she replied, then stepped – smooth as ever – into social mode. "Terrence, this is Raul Valentino. Raul, this is my friend, Terrence Closson."

At least she'd called him a friend. That was something. Tore held out his hand, and was mildly relieved when Raul took it with a firm – but only slightly testing- handshake. He'd heard this guy's name before. Charisa's college roommate had tried to hook them up while he was off during the war. "Nice to meet you," he managed to smile with a straight face.

Raul's return smile was warm. "Terrence… the Shock Alchemist, yes? Charisa has mentioned you several times. It is nice to make your acquaintance. And who is your lovely companion?"

Very smooth. "This is Cecilia Reynolds," Tore introduced her with a smile. He had the feeling he didn't have to introduce Charisa to her specifically.

"Charmed." Raul took Cecilia's hand and bent over it politely.

Charisa was once again her usual smiling self. Given how rarely Tore had seen her like that lately, he knew she was acting. Apparently Raul hadn't noticed. Charisa's eyes shifted ever so slightly when he bowed so graciously over Cecilia's hand. Maybe she really was interested in the guy?

Cecilia beamed at Raul. "Nice to meet you."

"What brings you to Central?" Tore asked curiously.

"Officially, my father's business," Raul smiled, then glanced sideways. "Or so he believes."

Charisa looked slightly unsettled but not displeased.

Tore didn't have to ask further to get the meaning in that look. Of course Raul wanted to see Charisa. "Well it was nice of Charisa to let you come along."

"That's certain," Raul chuckled. "I'm afraid I did show up rather abruptly."

"It's not like you had much chance to notify me," Charisa replied, smiling at Raul. "You're always in and out."

"The perils of a family in international business," Raul chuckled. "But I really wanted a chance to meet some of Charisa's classmates. She speaks so well of home. I wanted to see Central the way people who live here do, I suppose." He sighed and looked at his watch. "Unfortunately I do have a meeting." He turned to Charisa and smiled. "See you tonight?"

"Yes, I'll be there," Charisa promised.

Raul smiled. "Wonderful." He turned back to Tore and Cecilia. "It was nice to meet you both." Then he turned and left.

"Tonight?"

Charisa looked back at Tore. "We're meeting up for dinner."

"How nice," Cecilia commented.

Charisa looked over at Tore's date with a slightly flat look. "How's Danny these days?"

Cecilia stiffened visibly. "Just fine. Come on, Tore. I see someone I'd like to say hello to."

She moved away so fast, Tore felt guilty as he said, "See you," to Charisa and followed.

"What was that about?" Tore asked Cecilia as he caught up with her.

Cecilia shook her head. "Don't you remember Danny Lane?"

"Well some." He hadn't really shown up on Tore's radar much either.

"He was a good friend to me," Cecilia replied. "In the class above ours, and _Miss Breda_ got him expelled."

"What?" Tore stopped cold. "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you know?" Cecilia turned around. "She got Danny and three other kids expelled."

"I don't remember that," Tore admitted.

"It was after you dropped out," Cecilia replied with a casual shrug. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean you should. I just thought she'd have said something about it, since you're so close."

"What were they expelled for?" Tore was grateful the tree they were standing under was out of hearing range of the rest of the party.

Cecilia huffed. "Drugs, or so she claimed. It was a big lie though. She was always doing things to the unpopular kids, just because she could. It was so obviously not true, but of course the school believed her just 'cause she's General Breda's adopted brat."

"Hey, that's enough!" Tore snapped. "You could remember that you just called one of my best friends a liar!"

Cecilia stopped, eyes widening in shock. "You…" she sniffled, and suddenly she burst into sobs. "You think I'm lying? You don't….believe…. no one ever…. You must hate m… me!" She buried her face in her hands.

_Oh no I …. Damn it! _"Ces, please!" He pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and held it out to her. "I didn't say that! I'm sorry…. Please, please don't cry."

She took the square of white linen and held it to her eyes. "You… do you even really like me? Mommy said… the only way you'd have agreed to see me was… to sleep with me."

What kind of mother…. "Well she's wrong." Tore stepped in, taking the handkerchief back and dabbing at her eyes. "Come on now." His heart stung, but he sympathized. Did he believe her? Well they'd gotten expelled, but arguing the point years later was dumb. Charisa wouldn't lie if he asked her about it later. "Your mother doesn't know me right?"

"Nuh-uh," Cecilia shook her head. "I just…told her about you the other day. She's…always pestering me about not having a boyfriend but… when I said who you were she just, she almost didn't believe me either!"

"Well I like you," Tore assured her with a half-smile. "And it's not just because of how you invited me over." Not the could lie and say he didn't enjoy the sex, but he didn't make a habit out of sleeping with girls he didn't like. He felt a growing dislike for her parents. How could they say those things to their own daughter? "You're a sweet person, and you're pretty."

Cecilia began to calm down. "I'm so…embarrassed," she sniffed at last. "I didn't mean to cry like that."

"Hey, it's okay. Everyone gets upset sometimes." He just wanted her to calm down, to smile again. He glanced around, but no one seemed to have noticed. "And no one saw," he added, smiling encouragingly. "So I'm the only one who knows."

That seemed to be the right thing to say. Cecilia smiled at him. "You're so good to me. Let's go get something to drink, okay?"

"Sure." Tore led the way toward the drinks table. After this afternoon's weird bit of melodrama, he could use one.

**June 23****rd****, 1965**

"It looks fantastic," Lia beamed as she looked around at the newly painted nursery.

"It barely looks like my old room," Ethan laughed as he stepped up behind her. She felt his arms wrap around her midriff, his hands resting lightly on her belly.

"The paint job was your idea," Lia reminded him, resting her hand on his. She had given up trying to keep him from holding her all the time, or petting her stomach. Ethan was utterly enamored with fatherhood, and she was just grateful he thought she was beautiful this way.

"I know," Ethan kissed her cheek. "But it was worth it."

The entire room had been repainted in a mural of light greens and blues, rolling pastures around the walls with a few trees, tiny flowers and a sky of fluffy clouds shaped like animals. The best part was that Ethan had painted the entire thing with his own hands; no alchemy involved. The trim and closet door were painted white. "It was," she smiled. "And it won't matter if it's a boy or a girl, the room will do nicely for both."

"It will," Ethan chuckled. "I'll move the furniture in as soon as the paint finishes drying." With the window open, that wouldn't take too long. "Then it will be finished."

"And our room too." Lia smiled, though it felt a little odd to think of Ethan's parents' room as _theirs. _But the room switch was almost finished. The downstairs bedroom had been simple; painted the way Ed and Winry's upstairs room had been, in blues and pale yellows, and their furniture and matching curtains and bed coverings moved downstairs. It was almost the same configuration and size.

"It's nice to have it done," Ethan agreed. He had done all the painting of course, not letting Lia anywhere near when the cans were even open because of fumes. "Now we can just relax and enjoy the rest of the time we have like this."

The way his hands moved, the way he leaned forward against her back, kissed her neck; Lia never found it hard to tell when Ethan was feeling even remotely amorous. It still amused her, though lately it was irritating, and then she felt bad for being irritated. "You're not really in the mood, are you?"

He stopped. "I am, actually, but I take it you're not." There was no frustration in his tone, no heavy disappointment, just patient acceptance.

For some reason that bugged her even more. "How can I be?" A tear ran down her cheek. Crap…she was losing control of her emotions again. There were moments being pregnant wasn't nearly as enjoyable as she'd hoped. She'd been ready for mood swings, but they came on so… unexpectedly. "I'm…. look at me!" And…there went self-control.

Ethan slowly came around in front of her, resting his hands on her arms, a worried smile on his face. "Lia! I am looking…" He kissed her forehead and had the good grace to look a little embarrassed. "Is it so hard to believe I think you're really hot when you're pregnant?"

"No," Lia sighed. "It just proves you're as weird as ever." That, at least, wasn't new.

Ethan laughed and hugged her gently around the shoulders. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can change that. I just… anything that's a joy in life I can't help cherishing more now than I used to. I didn't know I could until everything that's happened. Of course I think you're beautiful like this."

He meant it. Lia never doubted it for a moment, but still it was nice to hear. She felt silly for moments of little insecurities, but even though Ethan was very much still Ethan, the war had changed him too, if in more subtle ways than some people. Lia wiped the tears from her eyes with one hand and smiled, hugging him back. "Thank you."

"Anytime," Ethan replied. "You're my…."

"Your what?" she smiled when he hesitated. "Don't say your world, your everything. You have a fantastic family," she chuckled, feeling better.

"You're mine," Ethan grinned. "You're a part of me; as much as my soul."

"That's saying a lot." Given the Elric family…quite a lot.

"Yep," Ethan kissed her again with a sudden enthusiastic laugh. "And since you're always telling me to take care of myself… what can I do to make _you_ happy right now?"

That logic was… twistedly correct. Lia shook her head, and chuckled. "How about a nice snuggle in our newly finished bedroom?" Napping in those soft colors – the sagey green, the cream, with lilac accents – it would be sweet, like a summer bower, their little lover's spot. Ethan hadn't made one word of protest about the color scheme. At least he seemed grateful it wasn't in floral prints!

"That sounds heavenly."

**June 27****th****, 1965**

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Cal sighed, though he grinned as he watched the door close behind Will and Ren.

Beside him, Alyse chuckled. "Oh, come on. You wanted to spend this evening with me, and I promised to babysit."  
_  
Which is the only reason I agreed._ It wasn't that Cal didn't like kids in general, or even Minxia and Michio, who seemed to like him. He just had never been in a situation where he had to actually take care of one, and now there were two! "Yeah so, what am I supposed to do?"

"Play!" Minxia laughed.

Cal turned and saw her peeking over the back of the couch. "Just what did you want to play?"

"I have my favorite game," she grinned.

Sure enough, there was already a board game laid out on the Xingese style coffee table. It had three pieces set up, and lots of Xingese characters and animals and plants drawn all over it. "I hope you can teach me how to play," Cal laughed as he sat down. "You can read Xingese?"

"Of course I can!" The six year old shook her head. "Silly. Mommy taught me. This game is called Animals and Fruit." She pointed to the moving pieces, and Cal realized each one of them was some kind of animal. "You draw cards and move to spaces with the symbols on them, and you try and get all the fruit before the monkeys. But if you land on a dangerous animal, you have to go back and start over. If you land on a good animal card, sometimes they help you."

"It's really not hard," Alyse assured him as she sat down next to him on the couch, holding Michio. The baby wiggled and smiled. "Which animal do you want to be, Minxia?"

"The tiger!" Minxia giggled, moving the small tiger figure to the starting point. "You should be the deer, Aunt Alyse! Oh, and for Michio, he should have the fox."

"Okay," Alyse laughed.

"Do you read Xingese?" Cal asked Alyse, suddenly feeling foolish. He'd never thought to ask.

"Barely," Alyse assured him. "Mostly I just know some of the images in this game, and a few phrases Ren taught me that were useful at diplomatic dinners."

Cal felt an odd twinge of relief. "So ah… which one should I be?" Minxia seemed to like assigning the animals.

She looked up at him thoughtfully. "I know! Uncle Cal can be the Tarsier!"

A… "What's that?" Cal couldn't imagine. He looked at the figuring. It looked sort of like a monkey with…huge bulging eyes. "Oh…ah, sure." He smiled. "Thanks, Minxia." _She called me Uncle?_

Alyse looked like she was fighting hard to smother a laugh. "It's a great choice."

Cal began to relax as the game progressed. It did turn out to be extremely simple, though Minxia proved to be a master at it, despite the amount of chance in drawing from the deck of cards. They played four rounds, and Cal got a surprising amount of enjoyment in demonstrating fancy card-shuffling techniques between rounds.

"I wanna learn how to do that!" Minxia grinned.

"Only if your Dad approves," Cal laughed.

Minxia won three of the games, and Alyse won the fourth.

"That's enough I think," Alyse smiled at the end of it. "It's time to have dinner and get ready for bed."

"Okay. I'll put the game away," Minxia nodded agreeably.

"So, what's for dinner?" Cal asked as Alyse stood up.

She turned at him and smiled. "For us, Ren left stir fry to heat up. For Michio here, mashed veggies and rice and a bottle of milk."

"Sounds tasty kid," Cal looked down at the little boy, who so far seemed good tempered enough. He hadn't fussed at all. "So there's no real cooking involved."

"Not really," Alyse grinned. "All we have to do is warm it. Do you want to do that or spend some time with Mich here." She held the baby up in front of him.

Cal looked into that round, grinning face. "I ah… yeah I guess I can do that." He'd held the baby a couple of times, over at Alyse's folks' place, but it was always kind of awkward.

"You know he crawls," Alyse laughed, setting Michio down on the ground. "Walks too."

"I know," Cal replied, sitting back down. He could keep an eye on the kid, right?

Michio grinned at him and immediately crawled over to the coffee table, where his sister had just closed the box, and stood up. "Up!" he said proudly.

"Great, Mich," Minxia laughed. "I'm putting the game away okay?"

"Kay," he laughed.

Cal found it was pretty easy to watch Michio. He toddled after his sister and really, she did most everything for him if he needed it. Before long, Alyse announced that dinner was ready and they got the kids to the table. Minxia sat in a real chair, but Michio had a baby chair. "Is that thing to keep him safe or keep him trapped?"

"Possibly both," Alyse admitted as she sat down next to it with the bowl of mashed food and a spoon and proceeded to feed Michio.

Cal was glad Minxia could obviously work her own chopsticks. He tried not to embarrass himself that she used them almost better than he did.

"So, what's next?" he asked when dinner was over.

"Bath time," Minxia replied as she picked up her plate and headed into the kitchen.

"Yep," Alyse smiled, wiping Michio's face and handing him in Cal's direction. "Here you go. Someone needs a change before he gets cleaned up."

Cal stared at the baby for a moment, dumbfounded. "Why do I have to do it?"

Alyse smirked. "Because I have to watch Minxia in the bath. Would you rather bathe a girl or change a boy?"

What a bizarre sounding question. Cal sighed. "Umm... under different circumstances I would have to go with the former. But in this case..."

"I thought you might feel that way," he girlfriend laughed, and kissed his cheek. "I'll give him his bath in a few minutes."

Alyse and Minxia disappeared upstairs, leaving Cal holding a rather stinky infant. "I don't know whether you're lucky or not, Mich," Cal sighed as he turned to follow. "You get Alyse's hands all over you without trying… but you have to deal with my fumbling first."

The diaper was definitely on the list of more unpleasant experiences in Cal's life, but he survived. He was just relieved when Alyse took the boy off his hands and gave him an easier assignment. "Could you get Minxia a bedtime glass of water and read her a story? She's already picked one."

"It's not in Xingese is it?" Cal asked warily.

Alyse smiled. "Probably not."

Minxia was waiting eagerly when he entered the room. "I want this one, Uncle Cal!" She held up a brightly colored book of fairy tales. "The story of the Snow Princess."

"Snow princess huh?" Cal smiled as he sat down in the chair next to the bed and set down the glass of water. _She called me uncle again._ He picked up the book and flipped it open. "Once, in the northern lands of the Province of Kishan, at the top of the tallest mountain, where it always snowed, there lived a beautiful, but lonely princess…"

It was a surprisingly captivating story. The princess was captured by nomads, then from them by a dragon. The warrior that rescued her proved not to be a lover… but a long lost brother, and they fought their way out together.

"I see why you like this story," Cal laughed at the end.

"I like how you read," Minxia giggled. "You do fun voices like Daddy does!"

"Do I?" Cal had been so wrapped up in it, he hadn't really noticed. "Well, that's good right?"

"Uh huh," she grinned. "Very good!"

Cal set the book down and turned off the lamp. "Well, it's bedtime. Ah…good night."

"Good night." Minxia rolled over contentedly.

Cal was surprised to find Alyse standing in the hallway. "Did you hear all…"

"Every sword clash," Alyse smiled, stepping up and kissing him. "You're good at this."

"I'm just stumbling through it," Cal laughed uneasily. "Where's the squirt?"

"Mich? A belly full of food and a hot bath and he was sleep as soon as he hit the crib," Alyse giggled. "Typical boy."

"Hey!" Cal tweaked her little nose. "What are you trying to say?"

Alyse hugged him. "I'm saying that both of the kids are in bed and we still have a few hours to ourselves before my brother comes home. He said….if we want… there's cheesecake and wine in the kitchen."

Cal looked down, startled, then laughed. "Is that our payment for babysitting?"

"Pretty much," Alyse smiled, taking his hand and heading for the stairs. "Unless you'd rather not."

"Oh no, I'm coming!" So there was still an adult life even with kids around. That was kind of reassuring. Though the realization that Alyse really was this good with children was slightly alarming despite how naturally she proved mothering came to her. The fact that he could see it so clearly – her as a mother, though her pregnant made his blood run cold – made him feel assured and a bit panicked at the same time. "I'm definitely coming." He was starting to get used to doing things he was nervous about.


	8. Chapter 8

**July 2****nd****, 1965  
**

"You think what?"

Lia sighed as she looked at Ethan's slightly stunned expression as she sat in the examination room at his and Ren's clinic. She felt slightly silly now, in the middle of her four month appointment, to voice the idea that had been niggling in her mind for a couple of weeks now. "I…think I might be carrying twins."

Ethan swallowed. "Not that… that wouldn't be okay I just… why do you think it's twins?"

Ren, standing off to one side, just looked amused. Lia was glad she was getting the chance to speak.

"It's a… feeling," she admitted, feeling a little foolish. "But I mean, look at me, I'm huge! And didn't… didn't you say last time the baby seemed a bit different? Not bad but not the same right? Well we never checked to make sure it was just one right?"

"Is there a history of twins in your family?" Ren asked calmly.

The look on Ethan's face spoke clearly that he'd never even thought of that possibility.

Lia shrugged. "Not recently but…I think my great-grandfather had a twin." She felt like she was grasping at straws but somehow…she just felt like she knew. "I just… I don't feel like there's just one."

"Is that possible?" Ethan looked at Ren.

"Well of course it's _possible,_" Ren replied with a shrug. "Anything is, and she's got a good point. The way your body's reacting, the thing with the baby. I never even thought to check and make sure I'd found the same one, or looked for more than one. It could be twins, or even triplets."

"Triplets!" Ethan went ghost white.

Ren laughed. "I'm kidding!"

Lia couldn't help a giggle at her husband's expression. "So, can we please find out? Is it possible?"

"If I know I need to look for more than one," Ren laughed. "And at this stage of development, it should definitely be easier to distinguish if that's the case. Lie down all right?"

Lia nodded and did as instructed as her shirt was pulled up and her belly exposed to the cool air. She shuddered slightly.

Ethan moved around to the side, taking her hand in one, and laying the other on her side. "You're really serious."

"I wouldn't say it just to freak you out," Lia pointed out. "Though I admit, your face is funny."

"If it is…how are you going to feel?" Ethan asked, clearly concerned for her.

Lia smiled. "Well, we'll need more stuff."

Ethan chuckled. "That's not what I meant."

How did she feel? They wanted more than one child, she just hadn't given any thought to having more than one at once. Right now, would she be more disappointed to be wrong? She just…it felt right. She smiled. "I'll be excited," she replied honestly. "Besides," she teased him. "I'd feel better knowing I'm eating for three, instead of getting fat for no good reason."

That got him smiling as he shook his head. "Twins or not, you're fine."

Then why had she stopped going near the scale except for appointments? Lia glanced down at where Ren was listening to her belly, and then laying her hands down. "Well?"

"I think…you may be right," Ren chuckled. "I'm pretty sure I heard three heartbeats. Let's just take a gentle look and see."

Her whole belly felt strange as Ren's energy began to circulate ever so carefully in Lia's body. She knew what Ren was doing, locating the sources of those heartbeats. One Lia's, at least one baby… and possibly another little hidden family member?

Ethan looked no less nervous, but a little more excited as they waited.

"There you are," Ren chuckled after a minute. "My goodness, you've been hiding behind your sibling haven't you?"

"You mean…there really are two?"

Lia squeezed his hand, and felt a thrill of excitement. Twins!

"Get over here," Ren tugged at Ethan. "I'm going to show you how to do this."

Lia watched Ethan prepare, and then tap in to the same alchemical energy Ren was using, following along almost to see what she was doing. Ren stuck the stethoscope on his head at the same time, and placed it to her stomach.

"Okay, the first little one is the one we knew about," Ren said. "The one here in the front." Her hand rested right on top of the furthest protrusion.

Ethan's eyes were wide, but with pleasure. "I can sense… and hear it."

"The other one is here." Ren slid the stethoscope to the far top of the curve, closer to Lia's breasts and ribs. "Almost in the middle, but tucked in under the ribs. That's the one that confused us. He or she is playing hide and seek."

The amazement turning to joy in Ethan's eyes was reassuring. Lia relaxed, aside from the inability not to giggle or twitch when their hands tickled. "Okay, I am not a toy here!" she finally gasped.

"Sorry," Ethan replied sheepishly. He moved his hands away. "Gee… there's really two babies in there." He sat back.

Lia was grateful when Ren offered her a hand to sit up. She had been right! Her odd feeling had been right. She had two little ones growing in her womb. She smiled at Ethan. "You all right?"

"All right?" he laughed, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. "It's…amazing! I mean, I didn't think about it much, and it's a little overwhelming maybe…. We'll have to make sure we have enough of everything for two instead of one but… we have most of what we need and… well, wow!"

Lia chuckled, and kissed him back. "I know exactly what you mean."

**July 12****th****, 1965**

"Twins, huh," Edward looked up at Winry who had just hung up the hotel phone from a call to Central. Travel made them difficult to track down, and their time on the island had made them nearly impossible to get a hold of apparently.

Winry smiled, feeling slightly giddy and still a bit awed by the idea. "Yep! Fortunately Ethan and Lia are both excited." Her son seemed a bit dazed but happy with the idea of having two kids right off like that.

A sudden snicker made her look over sharply at Ed, who had started laughing! He was sitting on the hotel bed, leaning back on his arms, chuckling.

"What's so funny?"

"What?" Ed looked up at her, snickering. "It's good news! And it is funny isn't it? Ethan spent half the war moping about being apart from his wife and how much they wanted to have kids. He's certainly gotten what he deserves right?"

What the…. Winry sighed. "Are you saying this is still all some part of equivalent exchange, Edward?" _Alchemists._

"It makes up for lost time," Ed grinned. "They wanted kids, and they got them!"

Sometimes Ed laughed at the strangest times, but at least Winry felt she could understand this time what he found amusing. It wasn't that it was funny so much as it was worth celebrating, and enjoying the irony. "They did," she agreed. "Now are you ready to go? This whole afternoon was your idea."

"Sure," Ed stood. "I was just waiting for you to finish chatting. Let's go!"

Winry followed him out of the hotel and out into the streets. It was a warm afternoon, and Winry was glad she had bought light dresses for the southern Cretan weather. "I have to admit, it feels a little weird going to visit our daughter's ex-boyfriend."

Ed laughed. "Well if we're building a house, who better than a world-known architect who's also an old family friend?"

Sara had given them Mars Leighton's address when they called before to get Al's permission to build on the old Elric hill. Winry had been very happy that Al had agreed that it was time to rebuild, and he was perfectly happy with whatever Ed and Winry decided was appropriate, mostly because he trusted to Winry's good taste. "I look forward to meeting the family."

"From what I hear they might manage to outdo Aldon eventually," Ed chuckled.

It wasn't far to the apartment home Mars and his wife, Silvia, kept in the city. An architect and a photographer, they lived where they could work and still travel easily when necessary, but with three little kids, Winry wasn't surprised that Mars had stayed in Creta and stayed out the war at home. "None of their kids are over five,"

Winry nodded. "Though I'm sure he's got a lot of work now that Amestris is rebuilding."

"Sara said he's made a few business trips already," Ed nodded, taking her hand as they walked in the sunshine. "Here we are."

Winry looked up at the pretty sand colored stone apartment building and checked the number. "Yep, let's go in."

The Leightons lived on the fourth floor – the top – of the small apartment building, and Winry was happy when Mars opened the door and greeted them with a warm smile, hands full of a smiling dark-haired toddler in a purple dress. "Mr. and Mrs. Elric, please come in! We've been looking forward to your visit since you called."

"First names, please," Ed chuckled as they went inside.

"Oh, sure," Mars chuckled as they entered a spacious living room with dark hardwood floors and cream painted walls. The windows were open, and the fresh air coming in off the beach that could be seen out the back windows was delightful.

"What a lovely apartment," Winry smiled.

"Thanks," Silvia smiled as she joined them, stepping out of the kitchen and taking off an apron over her slacks and blouse. "We're lucky the building is full of families though, or our neighbors would probably hate us."

Winry chuckled and looked at the large playpen in the otherwise fashionable living room. Inside of which were the other two children; a girl and a younger boy. Mars set down the youngest girl in his arms. "They're certainly well behaved." She watched them playing with soft blocks.

"Usually," Mars chuckled. "I hope you're hungry. Silvia's an amazing cook."

Silvia smiled, but shook her head. "You would say that. You eat anything I put in front of you."

"That's because it's all amazing," Mars chuckled.

"Sound familiar?" Winry asked Ed quietly.

Her husband grinned.

"We'll discuss this later," Silvia smiled at Mars. "You should get business done first."

"Right." Mars kissed her nose then turned to them. "If you want to come into my study and show me your ideas?"

"Sounds great," Winry said.

The home office was a small room with floor to ceiling shelves that were only half covered in books, the other half was blueprint storage. There was a large table for drawing and an area for his supplies. "It's not much," Mars chuckled as they sat down around the table, a little snug with three chairs.

"I'm sure all your clients think you have a much more spacious office," Ed chuckled.

"Not if I want to put all three of those little ones out there through college someday," Mars laughed. "So, what have you got."

"Well I did some draw-" Ed stopped, looked at Winry, and self-corrected. "I had a few ideas, and we talked and Winry sketched these out."

Winry smiled. Neither of them were artists, but at least with her experience in auto-mail schematics she could draw straight lines!

Ed pulled out the small stack of papers they had worked on over the past couple of weeks, hashing out ideas for their dream home. It really was like a farmhouse version of a mansion all told. It would be large, elegant, but functional and comfortable. Neither of them wanted it to be pretentious, though it would definitely be the largest house Resembool had ever seen. _We can invite the whole town over for holiday parties,_ had been Ed's excuse.

Mars went over every sheet, the huge open living room with the fireplace, the kitchen, the small auto-mail shop area, the bedrooms, bathrooms, and asked them literally hundreds of questions about the stairs, the feel they wanted, the ground it would be on, the wrap-around porch, foundations, ideas for the interior, dimensions, everything they had come up with and tons of things they hadn't even decided on. "I think that's everything for now," he grinned when they were done. "You realize this is going to cost a small fortune right?"

"Yeah, we know," Ed grinned. "We got back from the war and took a look at everything we've got, and we can manage it."

"In what kind of payments?" Mars asked.

Winry watched his eyes open wide as Ed shrugged casually and said. "Is cash all right?"

Mars' mouth dropped open. "You're serious."

"Auto-mail and the Military both pay amazingly well," Ed replied. "This is something worth spending some of our savings on. It's something that can stay in the family and not burden anyone."

It would be entirely paid off. Even Winry had been a little surprised to sit down and really look at their finances after the war. It was probably less than the Armstrong's had, but they _could_ have built a small mansion in that neighborhood if they wanted to use up most of what they had saved. At their age, they deserved to use some of it!

Mars smiled. "Well I can't disagree with that kind of payment." Of course, he wouldn't get all of it, most of it was building costs, but the design contract would still be lucrative. "The one thing I do have for you," he stood up and pulled a large thick envelope off the shelf, "Is the sample images and names of all of the contractors and interior designers I've worked with who will do work in Resembool. See what you like, and let me know which ones you want me to hand these plans to."

Winry took the envelope, and smiled. "Thank you, Mars. You've gone to quite a bit of effort on this already."

"I've seen your house, Winry," Mars smiled. "I have a pretty good idea of your tastes, so I hope you don't mind the presumption, and frankly I'm honored that I'm the first person you came to. There's a lot of really good architects in Amestris."

"But as you just pointed out, you know us," Ed replied. "Besides, we trust you and we're rather put a chunk of what we're spending in the pocket of a friend who could use it."

Mars looked pleased and slightly embarrassed. "Thanks, Ed. I've just finished a couple of projects, so I'll get on it immediately. It shouldn't take more than a couple of months."

"That's all?" Ed asked.

"Sounds like they'll be done by the time we get home," Winry said. Their vacation wasn't anywhere close to over yet.

Mars nodded. "Great! I'll make sure to have a copy of the blueprints sent to Central as soon as they're done for your approval." He paused, and sniffed. Then he grinned. "And now, let's eat!"

Ed laughed as they headed back into the other room. "I like how you think."

**July 24****th****, 1965**

"Alphonse, tell me you're not going to give him a hard time."

Al looked at Elicia's stern expression, her arms crossed under her breasts, and smiled. "Hey, he's the one who called wanting to come over and talk to me."

"If you make Alyse unhappy you're sleeping on the couch with the cats until you're ninety."

Al chuckled and turned around, kissing her on the forehead. "Relax, Elicia. I'm going to hear Whitewater out."

"And you're going to tell him it's okay."

"How do you even know what he wants to talk about?" Al asked. Not that he had any doubts either. Cal Fischer calling wanting to have a talk with _him_ could only mean one thing. Al had been more surprised that Cal had actually planned to ask his opinion on the matter. He was curious to see exactly how Fischer planned to handle the situation.

Elicia just gave him a _you know the answer to that _ look and turned for the stairs. "I'm going to read a book, but I'll be listening."

Al smiled. "Yes dear." What did she think he was going to do to Fischer?

* * *

Cal tried to keep calm as he approached the Elrics' door. The True Soul Alchemist had been curt but not angry sounding on the phone. That was good he supposed. He couldn't imagine the man didn't know why he was coming over. How often did guys asked to talk to their girlfriends' fathers alone?

The point of this, of course, was not to suck up to Alyse's father. He wasn't really worried about her mother. Elicia Elric seemed to genuinely like him. She already treated him like nearly family as far as he could tell. It wasn't like he'd ever had extended relatives to tell with, but she was nice.

Still, he couldn't help dressing up just a little, to show he was serious. Not that he wanted to show up in uniform or anything, just clean khaki's and a dark green polo shirt. He paused, took a moment to still his pounding heart, and knocked on the door.

It was several long seconds before he heard solid footsteps, and Alphonse Elric opened the door and looked him in the eye with a perfect poker face expression. "Fischer."

Cal swallowed. He would not look nervous! "Good afternoon, True Soul."

"I don't go by that name anymore."

Well this was off to a rocking start. "I'm sorry," Cal apologized. "Would you prefer General or Sir?" He should have known Alyse's father wouldn't want to be called by his State Alchemist title. Even he had heard about the man turning over his watch to Breda on the front after Tamirov was killed. Alyse had _told_ him her father had been upset. He had just managed not to have to address him formally in his few visits over since Alyse's parents got back into town.

"Sir is fine. Come in."

Cal followed Alphonse into the living room, and was mildly relieved when Alphonse gestured for him to sit on the couch.

Alphonse went around to the other side of the coffee table and seated himself in a high-backed cushioned chair. "So, you're here to ask for my blessing to marry Alyse."

Yep, he knew. Cal nodded, trying to remember everything he had planned to say the way he had practiced the wording. He didn't want to ruin this. Not that he had any intention of letting Alyse go. Not now. "Yes, Sir."

Alphonse looked considering. "Will you still ask her if I say no?"

"Yes, I will."

"So why are you asking me?"

This wasn't a conversation. It was an interrogation. Cal wet his lips, and pushed forward. "Because family means a lot to Alyse, and I don't want to hurt her if I don't have to, but I love her and I'd rather not have her choose. That doesn't mean I'm going to give her up." He met Alphonse's gaze with the same evenness, and clear determination. He wouldn't be pushed around, but he was doing this because he knew Alyse would want it.

The silence was worse than an argument. Cal was used to arguing, shouting; he was good at that. He had never really thought of Alphonse Elric as a father figure much until he'd gotten interested in the man's pretty daughter, but now he wondered why his own father had never behaved like this.

Alphonse gazed at him calmly for over a minute and a half. Cal couldn't help counting the seconds in his head as they just looked at each other. "Do you think you're good enough for her?"

"No one's good enough for her," Cal responded reflexively. "Sometimes I'm not even sure why she fell in love with me, but I'm grateful. She loves me. I never thought that would happen, and the best I can do for her is to return her feelings and support her." Take care of was the wrong phrase to use when referring to Alyse; she had spent more time taking care of him so far. "I'd rather die than lose Alyse."

The last seemed to surprise Alphonse. At least, he looked slightly…. Approving? Maybe? "I could arrange that you know."

"Alphonse!"

Cal flinched and Alphonse broke out in a sudden smirk as Elicia stormed into the room with a paperback in hand.

"That's enough!" She put her hands on her hips and glared, then she turned and smiled at Cal. "Good afternoon, Cal. How are you today?"

"Very well, Mrs. Elric," Cal replied, managing not to stumble over the words as he recovered. "Thank you."

"Wonderful. I'll put on some tea for everyone, or would you prefer coffee?"

"Tea is fine." Right now, sour milk would have been fine after that nice little interruption!

Alphonse sighed, then leaned over and held out his hand. It took Cal a moment to understand, but he immediately stuck his hand out to shake. Alphonse nodded. "If Alyse wants you, I'm not going to stand in the way of my daughter's happiness. Go ahead and ask her, just make sure you let me know what she says." Now he looked amused.

Cal returned the shake firmly, and couldn't help grinning. "Yes, Sir!" _You old scoundrel, I bet you were planning to say yes the whole time. _But just to be safe, he didn't say that out loud. 

* * *

_Author's Note: Despite my posting history to the contrary, update day is still technically Tuesday. Lately the editing has just gotten done early and so I have been nice and posted the stories early. Enjoy while it lasts. ;) _


	9. Chapter 9

**August 7****th****, 1965**

"What a great day!" Alyse smiled at Cal as they strolled through the large park between her uncle's house and her parents' place. "This picnic idea of yours was really good."

"I like to think I have a few of those from time to time," Cal grinned back, trying to stifle the flutter of nervousness in his stomach. Her smile often had that effect on him. It was an oddly pleasant sensation.

"Cretan take-out and a sunny day, I'd say this definitely counts," Alyse assured him. She wore a lovely light sundress in white and yellow, sleeveless but with straps and a v-neck that stopped just an inch higher than Cal could have wished, and a flirty, flowing skirt that played around her knees. She carried one of the older quilts her grandmother had made, for them to use for their impromptu picnic date.

Cal slipped one arm around her slim shoulders – the one not holding the bag of food. "I'll have to remember that." Of course, he had been certain she would like the idea. That was why he suggested it. Besides, he knew she had bad memories of dates involving fancy restaurants. He didn't avoid them, per se, but she seemed to enjoy spending time with him elsewhere a lot more. Today did not seem like the right day to reintroduce her to fancy dinner dates. "So, where should we eat?"

"Over there," Alyse gestured with one hand at a sunny patch of grass down near the lake. Her bracelet sparkled as it caught the light. It was a pretty spot, and most importantly, it wasn't already taken up by happy picnickers! A summer weekend guaranteed a full park.

"Perfect."

They claimed it quickly, the red and blue quilt a bright splotch against the thick green grass as Alyse laid it out neatly and then settled down on top of it, her white strappy sandals on the grass.

Cal laid out the food. It smelled good, and they relaxed as they nibbled on stuffed grape leaves and flatbread sandwiches with a cucumber cream sauce. There was a comfortable silence until they finished. Cal lay back on the blanket, enjoying the feeling of a full stomach and the view of the fluffy clouds moving above.

"So is this the whole plan?" Alyse chuckled as she scooted closer to him and leaned over. Her hair tickled his nose. "Eat and fall asleep in the sun?"

"Tempting," Cal admitted, grinning up at her. "But no, not everything I had in mind." He reached up and pulled Alyse down, kissing her.

She laughed, but returned the kiss willingly. "Mmmm…. Love you."

Cal hugged her tightly. "I love you, too." Saying it felt so right, though there might always be a surreal quality to those words leaving his mouth. This moment felt right...so right. If he wanted to he could just reach down into his pocket now and...

Thunder rumbled, and Alyse's lips lifted out of his reach as she looked up sharply.

Already on his back, Cal had a perfect view of the thick dark clouds of a summer squall moving in quickly directly overhead. A drop pegged him between the eyes. "We should move."

He barely had time to sit up before it was sprinkling, and the basket and blanket were only half-packed, the rest in arms, as they darted under the closest tree, followed by the wall of water.

"Well that was unexpected," Alyse laughed breathlessly, leaning back against the thick trunk. Under the foliage was still mostly dry, but beyond the limbs people were shouting and laughing as they scrambled for cover. Her arms were still full of the blanket.

Cal shook the drops out of his hair and grinned, silently cursing the rain for ruining the perfect moment. Oh well, Alyse was still smiling. "Summer in Central," he shrugged, and her smile quickly infected him. He set the basket down and sat down under the tree. "Lunch comes with a free show."

Alyse slid down next to him. Her dress was damp but not soaked. "You think of everything," she teased.

"But my timing was off," Cal shook his head. "If it had come sooner, your dress would be completely see-through."

Alyse looked frantically down at the white and yellow fabric before nudging him with an elbow. It wasn't nearly that wet. "You'd like that too much."

"How could I not." Cal kissed her cheek, near the ear. "Summer's nearly over and I've still never even seen you in as little as a swimsuit." Swimming! Why hadn't he suggested that before?

"You never asked me to go swimming," Alyse pointed out slyly. "Though now that you put it that way perhaps I should refuse to go if you do."

"Please don't," Cal begged. "There'd be no point going by myself."

"You wouldn't be nearly as good looking in a girl's swimsuit?"

His mouth fell open. "Does your father know you have this wicked sense of humor?"

Alyse giggled and leaned against his shoulder. "Sure he does. I think he would agree with me that you would look odd in a girl's swimsuit."

"Silly." Cal shook his head, and slid his arm around her shoulders. The rain was still dumping down, but he doubted it would last too long. "And horribly unfair since you've seen me in my shorts."

"Which reveal little," Alyse replied.

"So, then why did you blush the first time you saw them?"

"It was unexpected." Alyse looked up at him. "I don't blush now do I?"

"I try and be dressed before you come over," Cal laughed. When he had been healing up, Alyse's near-constant presence had been a help when he could barely bend over without tugging at his side and causing pain.

"I noticed," Alyse smiled. "It's a shame. I like you shirtless."

More than without pants? Well, that was just one of those weird things Cal had learned over the years; most women were like that. He couldn't argue the logic. He preferred a woman topless too! Or... well it was hard to think that way when he really preferred Alyse over the rest, and he had no idea what she looked like underneath her clothes. "Well I could just take it off now, but I think they have rules about that in this park," Cal replied.

"They do," Alyse responded simply, then fell quiet, a look of contentment drifting across her face as she watched the rain.

They stayed like that until the rain began to stop several minutes later. By then Cal almost regretted it. For a moment his world had consisted of a small patch of grass and Alyse, with no one likely to interrupt or intrude. He watched the rain stop, and then the sunbeams break through, and the world lit up with millions of diamonds on the wet grass.

"It's so pretty," Alyse smiled as she got up and moved out from under the tree. "Oh, look Cal!"

"What is it?" He stepped out into the sunlight, and saw what she meant immediately. A rainbow arched against the retreating clouds, right over the lake. "You're right," he smiled.

Life returned to the park. A lot of folks had fled, but many had done what they had, and ducked under trees to avoid the storm. With everything packed up, they strolled through it towards the more populated area. Children were playing on the playground or chasing around in the fields, several with dogs. The food vendors always set up there, where Cal knew they got great business from families.

Now there was an idea. "Hey," he smiled at Alyse. "You want to get some ice cream?"

"Sure," she agreed. They hadn't packed dessert, and the warmth of the day had returned with the sun.

Cal led the way to the ice cream stand, where he ordered them a sundae with all of Alyse's favorite toppings - strawberries, almonds, chocolate, whipped cream, and - of course - they always put the cherry on top. While they were making it, Alyse claimed one of the small umbrella-shaded tables. They were, fortunately, still pretty dry.

"There you go," the guy grinned, handing over the sundae and two spoons. "Enjoy."

"We will," Cal grinned as he paid. He looked down at the sundae. Yep, this really was the perfect idea. He moved the cherry slightly to one side, and reached into his pocket. Out of it he pulled a small gold ring, set in the center with a quarter-karat diamond, around which six square cut amethysts radiated in a diamond angle so it looked like a tiny, delicate purple flower. He had spent more time shopping for that little thing than anything else in his life.

He felt a small rush of adrenaline and fear. He knew Alyse loved him, but he'd been close to this kind of thing before. This wouldn't be like that. Alyse... she wouldn't hurt him. He knew that. She wanted this he was sure. So why did he still have that gut-instinct fear that she would turn him down? _Just do it, Cal.  
_  
He turned and walked back to the table, putting on a relaxed smile and trying not to look suspicious.

"That looks amazing," Alyse grinned brightly as he set it down on the little table between them and sat down. He handed her a spoon. "You really got all my favorite toppings on here didn't you?"

"I have a good memory," Cal chuckled, with no attempts at modesty. "And I like all of them too, so why make it complicated?" he picked up his own spoon and went to take a bite, trying not to stare, waiting for her to notice.

"You're sweet," she smiled, and - as he had noted in times past - she reached for the cherry first. Her hand stopped as soon as she picked it up. Cal wasn't watching the cherry, he was watching Alyse's face. She stared at the cherry in amazement first, then looked up at him, as if waiting for confirmation.  
_  
At least one guy knows how to propose to you. _Cal reached out and plucked the cherry from her fingers, and took the ring off so it could go where -hopefully- it would end up! He held it out to her. "Do you like it?"

Alyse's expression shifted, and she took the ring itself. "It's stunning," she replied softly, then she met his eyes, her own smiling but wet. Were those tears? "You're not usually the jewelry giving type."

"Guys change," Cal shrugged, but he pushed on. He couldn't mess this up now. "I am now. I didn't used to be the marrying type either, but lately that's all I can think about." Green eyes, across from his, every morning and every night. "I don't want to say goodbye anymore. I don't want to waste all the others hours we could have together. This last year, we've done so many things I've never done with anyone else, and all of them are the kinds of things I never knew I'd enjoy." Cooking together, just enjoying quiet time together in an evening, playing board games, as well as going out to the jazz concerts they both enjoyed and those things. "I love you, and I want to marry you, that is... if you'll have me."

For a moment, the world stopped completely. Cal was sure his heart wasn't beating.

Alyse's smile was brighter than the rain-drenched lawn. "Of course I do!" She laughed, and slid the ring on her finger. She came around the table and caught him up in the tightest hug ever. "I've never wanted anything more." She kissed him, and he might have lost himself in it if there hadn't been other people around. Some of them started clapping.

Cal sat back enough to enjoy her happy face. "Neither have I."

"Thank you," she whispered. He let her go reluctantly as she settled back in her seat, looking giddy with excitement. "We shouldn't let this go to waste," she chuckled, picking up her spoon. "It may be the best sundae ever."

Cal took a spoonful and bit into it. The sundae had been a good idea after all. He grinned. "You're absolutely right."

Alyse took the cherry and nipped it off its stem. "So... when did you have in mind?"

When? Oh! "I ah... hadn't thought that far," Cal admitted, slightly embarrassed. There would be a wedding to plan, and survive. "Do you know when you want to?"

"I always thought a New Year's Day wedding would be nice," Alyse smiled.

"Sure," Cal agreed. Not like he was going to argue with much of anything she wanted to do! "Though I wonder if you're just saying that to spoil my New Year's Eve fun."

Alyse winked. "Oh no. As long as you don't show up drunk or hung-over to the wedding, you can enjoy the party."

"So I'm right," Cal laughed. "Nah, I'm kidding," he assured her. "As long as I'm with you, it'll be a good time."

"Well, before long," she assured him, "You'll almost always be with me."

* * *

"Well I guess it's a good thing my kids already like calling you uncle," Will grinned, offering Cal a glass of iced tea as he dropped down on the couch next to him.

"I guess so," Cal smiled, drinking. He looked just a little overwhelmed by the family response, but Alyse knew he'd been prepared for it.

She leaned in the kitchen entryway, watching her fiancé and brother chatting. Her heart gave a little thrill thinking of Cal that way. In just a few months they would be married. There was a lot to do in that time; a wedding to plan, a house to find. They both had stuff that would make the apartment cramped, and big enough paychecks to find something nice.

Her family had reacted just the way she had expected. Her mother had hugged them both. So had her Grandmother and Ren. Will had hugged her, and shook Cal's hand. Her father had done the same. Then it had turned into an almost-normal family evening.

"Are you too dreamy to help with the potatoes?"

Alyse turned around and smiled at her mother. "No. What needs to be done?"

"Well right now, I need cheese grated to go on top of them," Elicia chuckled. "You can babble wedding plans at us while we work if you want."

Alyse turned to follow, but blushed. "You know it's funny," she smiled as she pulled out the cheese grater. "But I really haven't decided."

"You?" Ren looked startled as she looked up from the salad greens she was washing. "I would have thought you'd have the whole ceremony planned! You spend half your time planning weddings."

"None of them being my own," Alyse pointed out with a chuckle. She began grating the cheese. "Half the wedding really is the groom, no matter what people think. A wedding with Cal in it is going to be completely different from what I might have picked if I had ended up with one of my other boyfriends. They all have different personalities, tastes, looks…."

"So do you have _any_ idea what kind of wedding you want your father to pay for?" Elicia chuckled.

Alyse smiled. "When you put it that way... it probably won't make a bit of difference, though I think you can be sure it's not going to be too elaborate. Cal's not really a frilly person and really, neither am I. I'd like something elegant… but not opulent. New Years Day lends itself to a winter color scheme, but I don't want to do holiday colors. They're so overdone."

"Sounds like you might have a few ideas after all," Grandma Gracia smiled as she walked past her, carrying the refilled tea pot.

"I guess I do," Alyse admitted. "I just… I want it to be a wedding Cal feels comfortable being a part of. He's not big on formality."

"Which is why it will be perfect," Elicia smiled. "Though I get the feeling he would say yes to anything you asked for."

"As long as we both end up at the altar, I'm sure he would," Alyse chuckled. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't rather he look back on the day as a fond memory instead of some trial he had to go through."

Her mother surprised her by giving her yet another hug. "And that, is the right attitude to go into any marriage with. As long as you both stay as conscious of each other's needs as you are now, I think you'll be very happy."

**August 10****th****, 1965 **

Finally, Maes thought, he had some time to himself. The kids were fed, bathed, and in bed, out of the way. He had left Elena answering letters at the dining room table and escaped to his home office and alchemy lab. Not that he was getting any work done, or much alchemy either. Not unless using flame to caramelize the sugar on the apple he now had floating in his drink for flavor counted.

He kind of felt guilty, hiding out in the back room even though he had no more parental responsibilities for the night. Of course, that was why he felt guilty; the relief that he didn't. He'd wanted a big family; Elena had wanted a family… so why did he feel dragged down by them? He hadn't always… had he? Perhaps it was just because lately all they seemed to do was whine and disagree with him. Or in the case of the girls, burst out in tears every time he had to be even remotely disciplinary.

It was like he had gone off to war, and no one knew how to deal with him anymore, or him them. The family unit had broken somewhere, and he had no idea where, let alone how to fix it.

He opened a book, but he only ended up staring blankly at the pages. For how long, he wasn't quite sure, but he only shook himself out of his reverie when he heard a knock at this office door. It was definitely Elena's hand. "You need something?" he called out.

"I'm heading for bed," Elena replied through the door when he didn't get up to open it. "Are you coming?"

Maes glanced up at the clock. It was only nine-thirty. "Isn't it early?"

"That's the idea."

Strange. "Well, sleep well." He sipped his drink and tried to get back to the book.

There was a long silence. "Maes, are you sure?"

"I'm not tired," he snapped, a bit more sharply than he had intended.

"Good night, Maes."

It was several seconds before Maes realized he heard padding bare feet. Elena almost never went barefoot. It was strange enough he stood up and opened the door.

As he did he spotted just the last flash of exposed skin – from shoulder to hip – as Elena vanished around a corner.

She was _naked? _She had come to his door… Maes could have smacked himself. He sank back against the doorjamb and muttered a couple of choice curse words. _How did I miss the meaning in an invitation like that? _It seemed so obvious now!

But… he'd disappointed her. Would she even still be in the mood if he chased after her? He doubted it. Did she want him to? Maybe she did… maybe she'd teased him on purpose. Maybe she really was just planning to go to sleep.

Or maybe…. Maybe he had no idea what he was talking about. Given that he was talking about his wife of just over twelve years that was a depressing thought.

Maes returned to his desk, his book, and his drink.

**August 13****th****, 1965**

"Edward?"

_No, it's not Winry….it can't be. She can't be here…. No… _"Nnnn…no."

"Edward."

Gentle shaking, gentle hands, familiar hands.

Clearly, he was dreaming again. Ed opened his eyes and turned over. Winry, a hand on his shoulder, the thin straps of her pale green silk nightgown falling off her shoulders, looked at him with gentle concern. "Bad dream?"

"Yeah," Ed nodded groggily, slowly focusing on the reality around him; the scent of corn and magnolias drifting through the window, mingled with the fresh wet of the hard clay streets outside and something frying and spitting in oil below them. The little hotel in the backwoods, yet charming, city of Leraro, Aerugo, was not the first place to give him unpleasant dreams. "Old dream," he elaborated. He'd had several of them since they left Creta and started on their trip through their second series of destinations – a brief few stops in places in Aerugo. For some reason Ed couldn't entirely put into words, he had decided that, in fact, he did want to come back to the country that had been a setting for so much agony. To wash it away maybe, to replace the old memories with new ones; he knew that didn't really happen like that. What he wanted, really, was fresh perspective.

Winry smiled and kissed him gently, snuggling closer in the warmth of the crisp, clean sheets. "You said my name."

Ed rolled so he could put his arm around her. "It's this town," he admitted.

"Well, you said every stop on this trip had meaning for you," Winry replied softly. "Bueáire was pretty self-explanatory." They had both needed that one; a chance to spend time together in a place that had nearly torn them apart. The misunderstanding was long past now; it almost seemed silly. "The countryside beyond it and where you got shot was too." His big mistake; the one that had gotten both him and Al shot, and he had nearly died; had been as silent as it had been the day he and Al walked there….eerily so, but there had been no more guns. They were just tourists now. "Though I was almost surprised they let us in at the border," she chuckled.

"They probably only did it because I wasn't wearing my watch," Ed chuckled, the pain of the dream fading quickly. In reality, the current government was friendly towards him, and as long as he was there as a civilian only, they had no problem with him being in the country. The elements that wanted him dead likely were mostly gone.

"So…this town?"

Ed sighed. "This was where Al and I bought the gifts we brought everyone back from the war. It…it was where I first told him I thought we were having problems."

"I see."

"But…it was so pretty," Ed smiled. "Such a pleasant, peaceful place even in war that I missed you. Not having you near was harder to handle in civilization. If there was a place I wanted to share with you here, it was Leraro."

"Well we are now," Winry kissed his jaw. "It took more than twelve years, but we're here."

Ed's throat constricted and he turned, kissing her more directly. "It took all those years…and we're still together." _Thank… okay yeah, thank God… I guess._

"We are." Winry gently ran her free hand up his chest. "You know, there are still days I feel terrible about what happened. It all seems so stupid now."

"Don't," Ed shook his head and smiled tenderly. "It's long over and neither one of us really knew all the facts, or acted the best we should." There was no reason to even think of blame, or reasons, not anymore. They were better than that now. "Today, we paint over all that. We can't erase it; we won't forget, but now…at last, it can be blotted over with a happier memory and the passage of time."

Winry looked startled by his thoughts, then she chuckled. "You're absolutely right. You know, that was very poetic."

Ed kissed her again and couldn't help teasing. "Should I become a wandering poet?"

"No."


	10. Chapter 10

**September 13****th****, 1965**

"…And that's my theory so far on the nature of the soul and binding with transmutation. What do you think?" Will looked across the coffee table, spread with his notes.

Minxia looked up at him thoughtfully, then giggled. "That's neat!"

"The expert critic," Ren laughed. "I'm not sure I'd publish your findings based on one woman's approval."

"How about two?" Will chuckled as he rolled up the sheets of paper with the transmutations circles on them and put them back away carefully in their tube. This was his life's work, and he had found out quite a bit. His uncle and father's beginnings in the subject had been invaluable, but his research had shown him so much already. Ren's knowledge of medical alchemy and the philosophical bent of the Xingese training had also added quite a bit. He valued her opinion above most anyone else's. Hers and his father's. After all, his father was the only alchemist he knew who could still naturally transfer bits of his soul into other things temporarily. Not that he did it often.

"Perhaps." Ren was comfortably settled in the rocking chair, with Michio falling asleep in her arms. The nearly-two-year-old looked peaceful after an afternoon of rambunctious play. "Have you made any more progress on the chapter on soul attachments?"

Lately, Will had been spending his time actually putting the most solid parts of his theories into book form for publication. The critical 'how to' was not included of course. The last thing anyone wanted was people trying this stuff unnecessarily. "It's about half way done," he nodded. "The basic theory about possibility is easy, since it's been proven. How it actually works is taking a little longer." Mostly because doing it, and explaining _why_ it worked were two different issues.

"You can do it, Daddy," Minxia smiled.

"Thanks, sweetie." Will leaned over and kissed the top of his daughter's head. "Can you put this on my desk for me?" He handed her the closed tube.

"Sure." Minxia picked it up and scampered into the other room.

Will smiled as he watched her go. It was hard to think of his baby girl as almost seven years old. Both kids would have their birthdays in November though. "She's getting big too fast."

"Feeling old?" Ren teased gently.

"Maybe a little," Will admitted. Not that he minded really. He loved seeing his children grow and learn. Minxia picked up things so easily, and now that school had started again, he was a little more aware of just how far ahead of most kids his daughter really was. "I think the war did it more than actually passing thirty though." He had just turned thirty-one that summer, but it was the occasional twinges in his arm or stiff knees in the mornings that reminded him that last year he'd pushed himself a lot harder than ever before.

"Well you don't look it," Ren stood up, cradling their son as she moved to stand beside him. Of course, her own birthday of the same age had been less than two weeks before, but to Will, she looked well younger than him.

"Shouldn't I be complimenting you?" Will asked.

Ren's face flushed slightly with pleasure. "If you like. Though, you know, sometimes you're _not_ as old as you feel."

That was good, because there had been a few mornings after he first got home where he felt at least as old as his father. Will nodded. "You have a point."

"I usually do," she winked at him. "Oh, wasn't Ethan coming over this evening to talk alchemy?"

"He was," Will nodded, realizing he had forgotten to tell her something! "But he called while you were changing Mich earlier and rescheduled."

"Rough day?" Ren asked sympathetically.

"For Lia," Will replied. His cousin's wife was just over six months pregnant, but she was already huge! Will wondered how she managed teaching all day, and expected that it had been more of a rough week than just the day.

That was all the answer he had to give. Ren nodded in understanding. "Hopefully tomorrow then."

"If he can pry himself away," Will chuckled. If there was one constant with Ethan, especially lately, it was that Lia came before everything else. He was amazed sometimes that Ethan made it to work. It was probably only because Lia still left the house for work every morning. "How much longer do you think until Lia takes leave?"

He couldn't imagine her working up until delivery. She already looked tired every time he saw her; more than Ren had anyway.

"That's up to her," Ren shrugged. "She's perfectly healthy, despite the challenges of carrying twins, so there's no reason to take off until she doesn't feel she can handle it."

Will shook his head. "Women are crazy," he grinned. "Though I know you've got to be the tougher half of the species."

"I know," Ren smiled back. "Fortunately for you."

Will stood and kissed her. "Very fortunate." He couldn't imagine carrying a child, except to think that it would be harder than anything he had ever done, even now. He was grateful for Ren, who could, and did, and had given him two darling kids and herself; a family he couldn't imagine the world without. "So, how about a nice family walk this evening?"

Ren smiled. "That sounds nice. I'll get the stroller."

**September 16****th****, 1965**

"I'm beginning to think we see more of you than of my son-in-law and my daughter," Mei Xian laughed as she embraced first Edward then Winry.

Winry couldn't help smiling. "Well Ren and Ethan are very in demand in Central."

"And both quite busy," Mei nodded sagely, and smiled. "My daughter keeps me informed on all the goings-on of the extended family."

Which meant, Winry guessed, that Mei already knew that Ethan and Lia were expecting. "How well informed?" she asked teasingly anyway.

Mei chuckled. "Enough to know that your son is going to have both hands full quite soon. I am very happy for them."

Ed looked almost as proud as if the twins coming were his; of course, Winry mused, he was always proud of their grandchildren too! After all, their own three were the parents. "So are we," he agreed.

They left the entrance of the palace and went inside. Winry was grateful a porter had already taken their things to their _usual_ guest suite in the Xingese Imperial Palace. It wasn't the first stop on their trip through Xing by far. They had made a lot of stops in towns Ed had always wanted to see, done some shopping, and enjoyed the beautiful variety of the landscape. "How have you been since the war?" Winry asked as they walked. Ren had been in charge – despite not being military – of the Xingese alchemists who had come to assist on the front, primarily as doctors but also as combatants when necessary.

"Much more relaxed," Mei smiled.

"I bet," Ed grinned.

::Grandmother! I've been looking for you.::

Winry looked up and saw a young man hurrying towards them. "Is that… Tao?"

Mei nodded, grinning. "He's grown."

"I'll say," Ed replied.

Winry had only seen the boy a couple of times, and it had been a few years. In that time the heir to the throne of Xing had grown into a man on the verge of adulthood. Tao in his late teens looked quite a bit like his father, and much more ready to take over the country some day than he had when he was just a cute kid.

Tao – dressed as if he had just come from fighting practice of some form – smiled at them all. ::Mrs. Elric! Fullmetal Alchemist, Sir, it's good to see you again!::

::It's good to see you,:: Winry chuckled. ::You look well.::

He flushed slightly, then looked at Mei again. ::Sorry to interrupt, Grandmother. Father would like you to come to the council chambers.::

::Must be the argument about funding hospitals again,:: Mei shook her head, then turned back to Ed and Winry. "I will try to be brief, and I know Mao hopes we may all dine tonight this evening."

"We'd be delighted," Winry smiled. Of course, a large part of coming back to the Imperial City at all was because this was where their Xingese friends were. The rest of the country was sightseeing; this was coming back to a place she had been before, only this time under much more pleasant conditions.

"Edward?" Mei smiled knowingly.

Ed's grin couldn't get much wider. "An amazing meal with old friends, how could I resist?"

**October 15th, 1965**

"No!" Cassie grabbed Aldon's arm. "I won't let you do it."

"Awww…please?" Aldon grinned, teasing because he could. "I'm a sure win."

"That's why I said no," Cassie laughed. "I am not letting you enter the pie eating contest."

Aldon sighed, pretending to be more disappointed than he was. It wasn't like he was really all that hungry, or that he wanted to stuff himself too many times over the Harvest Festival, but he liked teasing his wife. "Not letting me? Who's in charge here?"

"Me," Cassie kissed his cheek.

"Gee, could you two stop flirting?" Reichart looked half amused, half disgusted at the display. The almost-thirteen-year-old was still in that between age where girls weren't yucky, but they also weren't the focus of the universe.

"Maybe in another fifty years," Aldon grinned smugly at his second son. "Shouldn't you be taking Ian and Edward over to see the ponies?"

"Coran was supposed to do that," Reichart shook his head. "I have to go be with my painting when they do the art judging."

"I was going to go with him," Urey agreed, though he looked longingly at the pie eating contest himself.

"Well, where's Coran?" Aldon looked around, realizing that his fifteen-year-old was nowhere to be found.

"I think he went that way," Ian pointed in the direction of the animal barns.

Without his little brothers? Aldon sighed. It was a little surprising though that Coran would skip out on a promise like that. Maybe he'd had to do something quickly. "How long ago was that?"

"Twenty minutes?" Reichart hazarded a guess. He looked like he might say something else, but his mouth stayed closed.

"I'll go find him," Aldon said. "He'll be upset if he misses the invention display." The judging for that would begin in less than half an hour. This year he and Coran had entered a joint entry. In this case it was a motorized contraption that would peel, slice, and core apples for pies without the cook having to do more than turn it on. It worked pretty well too.

"I'll take Ian and Edward to the ponies," Cassie promised with a sympathetic smile.

Aldon set off towards the barns. It wasn't like Coran to just vanish without saying something. But then, he wasn't exactly a little kid anymore either. It was perfectly likely he had spotted some friends and just wanted to say hi. Aldon tried to give his sons as much freedom as they were old enough for. Fifteen was an age where most guys could go off and do things with their friends, and Resembool was a safe community so there wasn't really anything to worry about.

Or at least, that was what Aldon thought first. Most of the animal barns he reached first were empty. Fall had fewer animals showing than the Spring Sheep Festival, and they were mostly out being judged at the moment. Aldon called out for his son a few times, but pretty quickly began to think maybe Ian had just been thinking wishfully.

He had just entered the third barn when he heard voices…. In the hayloft? Aldon shook his head. Adults – or kids – taking advantage of the privacy no doubt. Not that this was a good place for it. Curiosity made him climb the ladder and peer across the dim area, lit by beams from the thin splits in the old roof.

Sure enough, a couple seemed to be making good use of the hay. The man, his jeaned legs all Aldon could really see, sat up for a moment. A young woman giggled, and sat up – her blouse open, bra showing – and pulled him back down.

Aldon's heart almost stopped right there. "Coran Elric, what the hell are you doing?"

His son sat bolt upright so fast hay flew! He spun and stared at Aldon, eyes wide. "What are you doing here?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking that?" Aldon asked, startled at the fury welling quickly on top of his shock. He recognized the girl now – Maggie Spenser. Her family lived nearer to town itself, up near the lake.

Maggie's reddish-blonde curls framed a face that had gone almost the same shade as she squeaked and grabbed her blouse closed.

"Out of the loft." Aldon's voice sounded odd, even to himself; clipped, angry. Of all the things he hadn't expected to find….

He backed down and waited, and less than a minute later his son descended the ladder and stood before him, an unfamiliar expression on his firmly set face; was that anger or embarrassment?

Maggie followed a moment later, holding her skirt down with one hand as she came down to keep it from fluttering in the breeze. Then she stood there, staring at the dirt.

"Go back to wherever you're supposed to be, Miss Spenser," Aldon said pointedly.

Maggie nodded vehemently and vanished.

Aldon turned back to the young man in front of him. It was surreal, that this was happening. Of course, it could be it wasn't what he'd thought he saw. Making out with a girl wasn't a crime. But her blouse was undone, her skirt…well it wasn't the longest skirt he had ever seen. He couldn't tell how much Coran was wearing at the time. "Explain." _And it better not be what it looked like. _

"Maggie's my girlfriend," Coran replied evenly. "We planned to meet up today, since we've both been busy lately. The loft was available, so… it seemed like a good place to make out."

Aldon shook his head. Hayloft…. Like any guy in Resembool didn't know what those were more useful for. Aldon did… and he wasn't even raised here! "Have you completely lost your mind? Do you know what could have happened?"

Coran rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Dad. In case you hadn't noticed, we live in a farming town."

Was this really his son? Aldon had thought he knew Coran better than this. Maybe he had, before. His son had grown up a lot while he was gone, and even now things were a little different. "So just what were you doing up there?"

"Kissing."

"Half naked?"

"Half dressed."

"When did you become a smart ass?" This was not going even remotely the way Aldon had expected. Not that he really knew what to expect. Coran had never even voiced an active interest in a girl in his hearing.

"When did you decide to butt into my private business?"

"I'm your father and you're not eighteen. It's a right I have."

"Well you haven't worried about it much until now."

"I thought you were more mature than that. It's easy to lose control in situations like that."

"You'd know, wouldn't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not dumb, Dad. I know when I was born and when you got married…and how old you were. I can do basic math."

"Then you should understand my concerns."

"Did you think maybe I actually learn from other people's mistakes?"

"Meaning you weren't about to do what I thought you were?"

"Or that I wasn't going into it unprepared."

Aldon couldn't tell if Coran was just making a point, or if he really meant what he might be suggesting; that he had been fully intending to sleep with Maggie, and had come prepared for that eventuality. That made the meeting pre-arranged, and somehow, that made Aldon even madder. "Have you had sex with her before?" He blurted out the question.

It hung there, blunt and straightforward; a question Aldon didn't really want the answer to and a question his son obviously did not want to answer one way or another.

"I told you," Coran finally replied, "It's none of your business."

Some people would have called that a silent admission of guilt; others embarrassment of a possibly innocent young man. Aldon chose to believe neither until given evidence in a particular direction. "It's very much my business, and if you don't tell me you'll be grounded for the next two months."

Coran stared at him, clearly trying to weigh whether his father was bluffing, and probably remembering that Aldon wasn't much for bluffing. Aldon met his gaze until Coran glanced away uncomfortably. "Yeah…" he finally replied, barely audible.

"How long as this been going on?"

Coran shifted slightly on his feet, then made himself meet Aldon's eyes. "A few months… not often."

"Protected."

"Of course!" Coran looked insulted. "I told you I'm not stupid."

"That remains to be seen," Aldon crossed his arms, and stifled his temper. It took a lot to make him mad; well this definitely counted as _a lot. _"Do you have any idea what would happen if everyone found out? What it would do to your reputation… to _hers_? You're barely fifteen." He was pretty sure Maggie was the same age. "Her parents are going to be furious when they find out you took their daughter's virginity." Assuming that he was her first… she always seemed such a sweet, innocent kid.

Coran's indignation seemed to be enough evidence. "It's not like I'm the only person involved here!"

"But you're supposed to be a _man_ about it," Aldon emphasized the word. "And while you both may have agreed, her parents and most of this town are going to see you as responsible. They're going to assume it's the male's idea."

"Why?"

"Because usually it is," Aldon admitted. A woman could come on to a guy all she wanted, but especially around here, it was usually the guy making the moves. Mutual or not; guys didn't get pregnant, and girls' fathers were almost universally protective of their little girls.

Apparently the talk about girls and parents had led Coran to an uncomfortable thought. "You're not going to tell Mom are you?"

"You want me to lie to your mother?" Aldon scowled.

"No…I mean…" Coran stuttered, his earlier calm clearly ruffled in the face of reality.

"If I tell her, she's going to blow her stack." Aldon sighed. "But it wouldn't be fair not to. You know that Maggie's parents are going to find out."

"Are you going to tell _them_?"

"I really think that's your responsibility," Aldon replied. He sure had no intention of getting shot at for his son's indiscretion! "Yours and Maggie's. Believe it or not, I don't object to your choice in girlfriend… just the fact that you're moving way too fast and I think you'll regret it later."

If his son wasn't already regretting it… or at least being caught. "Is she the only girl?"

"What do you think I am?" Coran shouted, eyes bulging as his temper snapped suddenly; almost as rare as Aldon losing his…. Weren't they a pair today?

"All right, calm down," Aldon replied. "I had to ask."

An awkward silence fell between them. Coran broke first. "So… now what?"

"Now? You're going home, and you're grounded outside of school for the next month." It was half the punishment he'd have gotten for lying about it too. Aldon felt it was fair.

Coran looked angry still, but he didn't voice a protest. "All right."

Aldon turned towards the door. "Just tell me… why?" Was it frustration? Was Coran still dealing with readjusting to having his father home and in charge? Or was it plain old fashioned bad judgment brought on by raging hormones?

"We just… I like her, a lot and we… well it just sort of happened the first time and…"

And Aldon knew how that story went far too well. "I don't suppose you've been drinking anything?"

"No…. why?" Coran looked suspicious, and more worried.

Aldon sighed and ran a hand through his hair as they left the barn. "Because then at least there'd be some excuse for why you thought this was a good idea." While it wasn't the same situation, Aldon got the feeling he now understood how his parents had felt when he'd called from Briggs to tell them Cassie was pregnant, and they were married. Except this hadn't gotten that far… he hoped.

He watched Coran walk to the edge of the fairgrounds and until he vanished down the road. Then, trusting that this time his son would do what he was supposed to, Aldon went to find his wife. He wasn't looking forward to explaining why their son was grounded for a month.

**

* * *

**

"What do you think of this one?" Alyse asked, watching Cal curiously as she motioned to a sofa in the biggest furniture store in Central. It wasn't the first place they had hit, but it definitely had the most options.

Cal, who still looked slightly uncomfortable, shrugged and didn't look thrilled. "It's kind of floral."

The pale blue and white leafy print was subtle, and kind of relaxing Alyse thought. "So what _do_ you like?" The problem was, he didn't seem to have a real opinion on anything they had looked at. That, or he didn't want to offend her or something. "This is going to be our place, which makes it half yours."

"I've never even thought about furniture before," Cal pointed out with a bemused grin. "I don't know how to match a living room. You're the one with taste."

Alyse appreciated the compliment, but it wasn't getting them anywhere. On top of wedding planning, they had been hunting for a house and furnishings so they could move in once they got married. "Let's try this another way," she suggested patiently. "Think about couches you've sat in that you like. What do they all have in common?"

Cal thought about it for a moment. "They're comfortable," he replied. "Firm, but not hard, and not the kind that eat you so you can't get up again," he added. "That, and they'll fit two people lying down," he added with a wink.

Alyse chuckled. _Of course. _"So then maybe you should be sitting on these instead of just staring at them."

Cal chuckled. "You have a point." He looked around the room again with a slightly more critical eye. "It's hard to imagine some of this in the living room."

The new place – _their house_ as Alyse liked to think of the one they had just had their offer accepted on – was vivid in Alyse's mind. The little townhouse was charming, and the location was perfect. Of course, that might have been because as soon as the one next door to Will and Ren came up for sale, her sister-in-law had called her and insisted they go look at it! "So why don't you wander by yourself a little," Alyse suggested with a smile. "Test out the ones you think you like, form an opinion without worrying about me, and then show me what you find. I'll go take a look at bath towels. Unless you're picky about those," she teased.

Cal shrugged. "As long as they aren't pink and lacy, no."

"I think I can manage not to buy pink towels," Alyse kissed his cheek. "I thought I would look for something that matches the bedroom." Which had been the first thing they managed to agree on in shopping. The bed and the mattress had been surprisingly easy – they had similar preferences in firmness apparently – and the color scheme was very natural, primarily beige and white with basic tree-leaf greens and hints of deep sky blue in the curtains and accent items.

"That makes sense," Cal agreed kissing her more directly. "You know," he replied quietly, "This is still kind of surreal. I hope I'm not being a pain."

Alyse shook her head. "No more than any other person. It's okay. Shopping for this kind of stuff isn't something a person learns in a day."

"Good," Cal grinned, "Though that might mean I never really learn."

They headed in different directions, and Alyse felt a bit guilty for the twinge of relief. She was enjoying spending so much time with Cal, but there were moments when it was nice to just find something she liked and get it to. He insisted he didn't really have an opinion on most things, but she knew that really meant he just wasn't entirely sure what he liked until he saw it.

Towels were easy. The Master Bathroom was white, and right off the bedroom, so a similar color scheme would be nice. Alyse looked at the displays with shower curtains, toothbrush holders, towels, and floor mats; all sorts of little accessories. The things in her own apartment bathroom would be going in their guest bathroom as appropriate.

She enjoyed the feel of the different towels as she ran hands over different brands, and contemplated just what would go best. Finally, she found what she thought would be perfect. The shower curtain matched the blue in the bedroom, and the towels were the same deep, jewel blue with two parallel stripes – green and beige – running width-wise at each end of each towel. The washcloth options included all three colors. Alyse knew Cal would have no objection to these.

When she returned to the furniture department, it took several minutes to find her fiancé. When she did, it was all she could do not to laugh! There, sprawled out on a rich medium reddish-brown leather sofa, was Cal. "So," she leaned over the back edge of it, "I take it you like this one?"  
Cal opened his eyes, and smiled when he saw her. "It's definitely comfortable. What do you think?"

Alyse felt the leather, then came around and sat down next to Cal as he sat up. Comfortable, and the style was understated and elegant; not the overly masculine styles so much leather furniture came in. The colors would go nicely with the wood floors in the living room too. Curious, Alyse looked at the rest of the set; there was also a nice, thick chair in the same leather. "It's beautiful," she agreed. If it had been too masculine she couldn't have lived with it, but it wasn't at all. Almost afraid to look, she checked the price tag.

Cal glanced over at her. "I didn't even look," he admitted sheepishly.

"Well, then you're lucky," Alyse chuckled. "Because the couch and chair come as a set, and they're on sale… or we couldn't afford them." Not even on their salaries would the regular price be a reasonable purchase. But right now, it was just right in their range. She showed Cal the tag.

His eyes widened briefly. Then he grinned. "So does that mean we have a couch?"

Alyse couldn't help but be a little amused at his hopeful expression. "Yes," she smiled. "You just picked us out the perfect couch."

* * *

Aldon was privately relieved when the family got home from the festival and he found Coran up in his room like he was supposed to be. Up until this afternoon, Aldon wouldn't have ever even considered doubting it, but suddenly he wasn't sure how well he knew his son… and that worried him.

Coran was sprawled on his stomach on his bed. A school book was open in front of him, but he seemed to be staring through it rather than at it as Aldon opened the door. Other than a sideways glance in his direction, Coran didn't look up. "How was the fair?"

_Neutral topic, avoid the uncomfortable one, of course._ "All right," Aldon shrugged, closing the door behind him. "They loved the apple machine. We won first prize."

"Really?" Coran looked up, a momentary flash of happiness on his face that Aldon watched turn to disappointment as Coran realized he'd missed it. "That's….that's great."

Aldon sat down on the edge of Coran's bed. "I told your mother."

Coran swallowed. "And?"

"And you're lucky you're only grounded for a month instead of until you're eighteen," Aldon replied, keeping his calm as best he could. "It's more than a bit of a shock. We both thought you had better judgment."

"You make it sound like I did something criminal."

"Foolish," Aldon added, "Irresponsible, short-sighted. It's only criminal if she didn't want to." Though from what he had seen, it certainly seemed mutual. "The risks aren't worth the pleasure, no matter how much you think you're in love with someone."

Coran's face turned bright red. "I didn't say I…. I mean…"

Oh really? "You're not in love with her?"

"We haven't… really talked about it that way," Coran replied.

"Then I think maybe you both need to rethink this," Aldon replied flatly. "And if I find out that after this you've been sleeping around with _any_ girl don't expect to be allowed out of this house unsupervised again before you're eighteen." With that, he sighed. He hated lecturing his son. Normally, he didn't have to do it with any of them. Not like this. "Now, is there anything else you've been keeping secret that your Mom and I need to know about?"

"No."

He clearly wasn't going to elaborate further. Aldon put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Look, I do have a pretty good idea of how it feels, but that's because I know what it's like when you go with what feels right, and things don't go as planned."

That seemed to get Coran's attention. He finally turned his head around and looked at him squarely again. "Are you and Mom ever sorry about how things turned out?"

_You know, I've been waiting for that question. _"Do we regret you? Of course not," Aldon replied honestly. "We were madly in love with each other, well beyond common sense I think," he chuckled slightly. "We were planning to get married anyway. You coming… just kind of sped up the timing." He shrugged slightly. "We love you, and we've never regretting having you, so don't think we do. That doesn't mean it didn't change the entire layout of our lives. We left Briggs before I had a chance to finish out the work I planned to learn there, got married, and we were already a family before your Mom and I turned twenty."

"And you had five of us…"

"Because we found out we really enjoyed parenthood," Aldon replied. "And… because I've always found it difficult to keep away from your mother."

"Okay umm… awkward."

"You sleep with a girl, you get to listen to the grown-up commentary," Aldon replied unapologetically. "You're not a little kid, but you're not an adult yet either and unless you want to have all the responsibilities that go with it sooner than I think you really do, you're going to have to exercise some self-control and forethought and really think about what you want to do in the future." He knew his son had ideas and plans. He was already a talented engineer. "And how you're going to feel if you have to _be_ a man and give it up for a different life path."

Coran nodded. "Right."

Clearly he had a lot to absorb. Aldon patted his shoulder once more, grateful his son hadn't pulled away, and stood up again. "I'm sure that's more than my quota of fatherly lecturing for the decade," he commented glibly. "So that's what I've got to say on the issue. Think about it, you've got a month after all, and remember you _can_ still talk to me like you used to."

Coran still looked embarrassed, but he nodded. "Yeah. Umm… thanks, Dad."

"For what?" Being thanked hadn't been what Aldon expected.

"For taking this better than I was afraid you would."


	11. Chapter 11

**October 19th, 1965**

Jean Stevens whistled as he approached the Clinic. He was looking forward to tonight's date with Noelle, as much as he looked forward to spending time with her every time he made it to Buzcoul. Which, for the past four months, had been at least three times a week if he counted nights off and the occasional whole day off. They weren't all formal dates, though tonight he had planned something a little more romantic if rather unoriginal. There was nothing wrong with dinner and a movie, right?

In the chill, falling dusk, Jean saw the lights were on in almost every room. They must have a lot of stay-over patients. Jean went around to the informal entrance - the kitchen door - and knocked.

The door was opened by a harried looking Noelle, still wearing work clothes and sporting a smear of flour on her cheek. "Oh bother, it's this late already? Wait, that's not what I meant! I'm really happy you're here, it's just still crazy over here."

Jean paused in the doorway. "I can see that." He reached out with one hand, lightly brushing the flour from her cheek with his fingers. "It's all right. How long do you think you'll be? Could you use a hand?"

"Did I have something on my cheek?" Noelle asked, letting Jean into the room. "Actually, that wouldn't be surprising, I've been flying around so much. I, I don't know how long it'll be, I'm not even done with dinner yet. Well, dinner is mostly done, it needs to simmer some more. I'm trying to get dessert done right now, but maybe I should just put it away and try something faster."

She looked so flustered and tired, Jean just smiled calmly and took off his coat. "Don't think of it," he replied. "Just get me an apron and tell me what we're making." Dinner could wait. The movie could wait. This was his chance to be a hero... well sort of.

Noelle stopped fluttering about the kitchen long enough to stop and chuckle, "I wasn't expecting that answer. You cook?"

"Don't look so surprised," Jean chuckled. "Just point me where you need me."

"How are your kneading skills?" Noelle pointed to the mound of dough on the table. "I need to check the main meal but that dough needs to be kneaded a bit and then divided into sixteen. Or you could check the main meal, I'm not trying to give you the harder of the two jobs."

"No no, I can do that," Jean grinned and grabbed the apron she hadn't yet gotten for him. He tied it on and rolled up his sleeves as he went. "This is a cynch." He washed his hands, then floured them and grabbed a chunk of the dough and started kneading.

"So who taught you how to cook?" Noelle asked with a smile, coming to the table with a bowl of peeled apples. As she floured her hands and started kneading the other part of the dough.

"My Mom mostly," Jean admitted. "When I was little she always let me help out in the kitchen. I enjoy it. It comes easily for me, and it's relaxing. And of course, when it's done I get to eat what I've made," he grinned. "So it's worth it."

"That's the best part of cooking, being able to eat what you make," Noelle smiled. She started dividing her dough. "I can't believe I haven't asked this yet, what's your favorite meal? You know, in case I want to make you something special."

An appealing thought; that she might _want_ to make him something. Jean kept his eyes on his dough, even as he smiled. "Well my Mom make's the most amazing corned beef brisket, with turnips and cabbage. I could eat an entire thing on my own if she'd ever let me." He had certainly tried on a few occasions.

"You think you could get me a recipe?" Noelle asked, flattening her dough into circles. "I mean, I could find one and make it but I doubt it would be like your mom's."

"I can write down what she does," Jean nodded. "She doesn't actually have a recipe she works off of, but I've helped her with it dozens of times."

"Oh really?" Noelle's smile was huge. "I'd really like that! Well, not right now, since we have our hands full. It won't do much good to have a recipe if it's covered in other food, right? Here, after I put the dough in the pan, put a little of this apple mixture in and fold the dough over."

Jean set aside the dough he was just finished with and nodded. "I can do that."

Noelle cut vents into the dough after Jean finished folding them, "There, now these can go in the oven and we can clean up! I'm so sorry this took longer tonight."

"It's no problem," Jean grinned as he helped her move them and then started getting the flour up off the table. "I like baking. Besides, you look cute when you cook."

She blushed up to her hair line, "Cute is not the word I would use to describe flying around the kitchen." Noelle picked up the container holding the flour to put it away, and stumbled, flinging half of the contents in Jean's direction!

Jean took a quick step backwards, and was only half-bathed in flour! He blinked, sneezed, and laughed. "How about exciting?"

Noelle's jaw was hanging open in shock before she tried to contain laughter. "I am so sorry.." She barely got the words out before a few giggles escaped.

"Don't worry about it." Jean stepped in close to her, tapping her nose with his flour-covered finger. "Though if you're going to laugh, I may have to come up with a way for you to repay me."

"Oh really?" Noelle said between giggles. "You just might have to catch me first." She set the flour back down on the table and darted away.

Jean's arm snapped out and caught her wrist - his length of reach exceeding her speed. He pulled her back in, a little too hard he realized as she fell against his chest. Impulse caught him and he leaned down, taking advantage of the moment, and kissed her.

Noelle returned the kiss without reservation, leaving her hands on Jean's chest. When she broke the kiss long moments later, she smiled up at Jean, "That some repayment plan you have there."

"I like to think of it as mutually beneficial," he replied softly.

"You know, I never actually laughed, just giggled, so what would you have done if I'd been laughing?" Noelle asked, eyes dancing.

Jean blushed slightly as he grinned. "What would you have let me do?"

"Probably what you just did," Noelle grinned in return before reaching up to give Jean another kiss.

"Well then I guess that would have been it," he admitted. Not that there wasn't further he wouldn't mind going, but making Noelle uncomfortable would be the fastest way he could think of to make a mess of the best relationship he'd ever had.

Noelle looked up to Jean, some of her merriment fading, "Am I making this too hard for you? I know you're waiting for me, but am I taking too long?"

Jean shook his head. "If I'm waiting for you, I'd wait forever. Though I'd rather not have to wait quite that long," he chuckled.

Noelle's cheeks blushed as she smiled, "You're amazing, you know that? One of the many things I really like about you."

Amazing? "I... well thanks," he replied. "You're incredible, you know that? Shall we ah... dust off... and get ready to go out?"

Noelle flashed an impish grin, "Oh, you don't think the restaurant would appreciate a flour fashion statement?"

"I don't think it's the kind of flower they're usually going for," Jean chuckled, then tested his luck and kissed her again briefly.

"Are you hoping that kissing me will get me to help you dust all that flour off?" Noelle asked with a smile after enjoying the kiss.

Jean did not say the first thought that came to his mind. _There are other things it might help me get off... but I doubt you'd let me help you change. _"Unless you find me abhorrent to touch," he teased lightly. "It's not like I bring a change of clothes when I come to visit."

"It's a good thing you put on an apron, I think most of the flour ended up there," Noelle grinned as she brushed some of the flour off of Jean's sleeve.

"Yeah," Jean smiled, more caught in her eyes than anything else. "I like to think ahead."

**October 22****nd****, 1965**

"You'd kidding!" Aldon exclaimed.

Edward grinned as he watched his son and Cassie looked at them in real surprise. He sat on the couch in the living room of the Resembool house next to Winry. "Of course we're not kidding. Pack your bags, and go get out of the house for a few days. We'll stay here and spend some time with the boys, and then we can all visit when you get back."

They exchanged one look, and then Aldon nodded. "Yes! We'll take it."

"Thank you," Cassie smiled.

"It's no problem at all," Winry assured them. "And when was the last time both of you had real time to yourselves?"

With five boys…Ed would guess years.

"Too long," Aldon and Cassie replied in unison.

When Winry and Cassie went to start dinner, Ed was only a little surprised when Aldon's expression turned serious. Ever since their arrival at the station, Ed got the feeling his son was unhappy about something.

"Before we go," Aldon pulled him aside, heading out onto the front porch, "I need to tell you something."

"I take it I'm not going to like this?" Ed followed, also speaking softly. "Is it about one of the boys?"

Aldon nodded as he leaned against the railing and stared down the hill. "Yeah. It's Coran."

"You said he was grounded." Ed remembered that much.

"But I didn't want to tell you why in front of Mom."

If he didn't want Winry to know, it had to be a doozy. "What'd he do?" Ed asked, joining his son at the rail. It had to be something pretty serious to get Aldon upset, but he couldn't think of what Coran of all people might have done. This was the kid who did all his homework, his chores, took care of his little brothers….

"During the Harvest Festival last week, I…. caught him with one of the neighborhood girls," Aldon replied.

"Well that's…" Ed stopped himself from saying _not so bad _ when he saw Aldon's expression. "Shit."

"Tell me about it," Aldon sighed, balling one fist and thumping it lightly against the rail. "We had a long talk about it, and he took it pretty well considering, but I… I just wasn't ready for that. I didn't even know he had a girl he was interested in!"

Ed felt a heavy dose of sympathy for his son. "It's tough when they don't tell you everything that's going on."

Aldon sighed. "I guess this is what I get for doing it to you."

"Nah," Ed smirked, thumping one hand down on his son's shoulder. "If it was an equivalent exchange you'd be a grandpa in a few months."

Aldon shuddered. "Thank goodness that's not happening."

"Thirty-four is kind of young to be a grandparent," Ed agreed. "But you said Coran took it well?"

"He seemed to understand and agree with a lot of what I said," Aldon nodded. "He hasn't complained much about his punishment either, though I know it's bothering him."

"Has he talked to his… girlfriend?"

"If he has," Aldon sighed. "He hasn't told me. They'd only have time to talk at school though, so it's possible they can't really discuss it right now."

Ed wouldn't want to talk about sex in the middle of a school yard either… not at any age! "I expect you'll find out when he does one way or the other."

"I hope so," Aldon replied. "Right now…I just wish I knew why he did it…now. He's always been so rational, so responsible."

"That doesn't mean we don't all mess up sometimes," Ed pointed out. "And not all of us react the same way to girls at that age." Aldon had definitely been attracted, but he'd been bothered by it until he got used to it and started dating. Ed… okay, so he'd never been normal. "He'll learn."

"You're taking this way too calmly," Aldon commented dubiously.

Ed snickered. "I've spent too much time in Xing. Meditation dulls the temper."

"Too bad," Aldon laughed. "And here I was hoping you could give Coran something to keep him fearing wrath while I was gone."

"I didn't say I couldn't manage that," Ed replied. Izumi had left him imprinted with plenty of good techniques for that kind of thing. Though, maybe, he could get Coran to open up a little and gain some insight into just what the heck his grandson had been thinking. Though the reality was, he probably hadn't really thought about it as much as he felt like he had. "It sounds like you really _need_ this vacation." He chuckled. "Though it's not for giving us more grandkids! You got that?"

Aldon laughed dryly. "Oh don't worry about that! Besides, that's not possible now."

"Oh?" He could guess why.

Aldon nodded. "Yeah. Ethan and I took care of that."

"I bet that made Cassie happy."

"Very," Aldon chuckled, his mood clearly beginning to lift. "There really didn't seem to be any point in trying again for a girl."

"Lost cause," Ed agreed. Not with a streak of five boys. "So go off somewhere, relax, and come back refreshed. You know we can handle things around here."

"If it were anyone else, I might doubt it," Aldon nodded. "Cassie's folks find the boys a little overwhelming."

"They're just boys," Ed scoffed. He liked his son's in-laws all right, but they didn't interact much. They were fairly quiet people, and they didn't seem sure how to deal with the rambunctious energy of their grandsons.

"It's not that," Winry quipped as she poked her head out the door.

"It's not?" Ed turned and wondered how much she'd overheard… or been told already by Cassie.

Winry shook her head. "Nope. If they were just boys, they might be okay. The trouble is, they're Elrics."

**October 26****th****, 1965**

The first couple of days were relative peaceful in the Resembool house. At least, as peaceful as visits ever were. Winry was grateful that her grandsons tended to be on their best behavior whenever she and Ed came to visit! It was particularly easy while school was in session. Little Edward was the only one too young for school, since even Ian was eight. Little Edward was only three.

So each morning Winry cooked up breakfast for all of them, and the older four headed off to school in a pack, leaving Winry, Ed, and the youngest to themselves for most of the day. It was, all in all, a fairly relaxing job! Winry would do any picking up that wasn't on the chore list for the boys, and think about what to make for dinner, and she and Ed would take turns – and often together – have fun with her husband's adorable little namesake.

While they looked almost identical, it always amused Winry that beyond looks, the two Edward Elrics seemed to have less in common than the title suggested. Yes, Little Edward was stubborn, energetic, and often hungry, but he had less of a temper, and quite a bit of patience for a three year old.

"He'd make quite an alchemist," Ed declared proudly one afternoon when he came inside from playing out in the dirt with the kid.

"And how do you know that?" Winry chuckled with amusement.

"He mixes perfect mud pies."

In the afternoons, the older four would return, and homework would commence in the living room. Despite the apparent chaos, Winry noted quickly that there was actually a method to it all, and a rhythm to how it would go. Urey would invariably power through his homework, finish first, and then vanish upstairs to read whatever book he really wanted to in his and Ian's room instead.

Ian would finish next fastest, often having the least homework, and probably – Winry noted when she looked at his homework the second day and made him go back and redo a quarter of it – he didn't worry as much or try and make it perfect.

Ian invariably darted outside to play with his friends; a pack of whom seemed to know exactly when to show up every day.

That would leave Reichart and Coran, working away on bigger and more plentiful assignments. They usually finished about the same time, though sometimes that was because Coran would give in and help Ian or Reichart with a question. He rarely had to help Urey.

Then, finally, they would all be finished with homework, and they would go do their own thing. Reichart sometimes went down to the clinic to help out, or up into the art studio to work on a piece, or outside to sketch ideas.

Coran… well whatever he would normally do, Coran usually did chores or went up to his room and lay on the bed unless he was sent out to do something like sweep the yard.

After that the evening would involve dinner, final chores, and whatever they all decided to do before bedtime. Mostly that involved play of some sort; games or cards or something.

So it went for a few days, until that afternoon, as Winry was rolling out cookie dough and Little Edward was watching eagerly and holding up a cookie cutter in the shape of a bunny. The door banged open several minutes earlier than usual and, as she turned, Winry watched Coran practically zip through the room, his bag hitting a chair with unusual force as he careened past and kept going right up the stairs. Thudding feet ended with the sound of a slamming door.

"What was that?" Ed asked as he joined them, dressed to go running.

"Coran, I think," Winry replied, feeling concerned. "He looked upset."

"He sounded upset," Ed replied with a frown.

Before they decided what to do, footsteps outside and the door opening again revealed the other three brothers. "Hey," Reichart looked between them. "Is Coran here?"

"Yeah, he just came in," Ed replied.

"Do you know what's going on with him?" Winry asked.

The boys all shook their heads. "He came out of school upset and took off," Ian replied. "We couldn't keep up. I mean, I probably could have, but he was running all out."

"I'll go have a word with him," Ed sighed and turned for the stairs. "You guys just be sure to leave him be for a while, okay?"

"Don't worry about that," Reichart shook his head. "If he's in a mood we'll just stay out of the way."

"Does he get moody often now?" Winry asked quietly as Ed vanished upstairs.

"More than he used to," Reichart shrugged, not looking particularly upset about it. "He's still trying to figure out how he's supposed to be when Dad's back, but he got used to being responsible for the rest of us a lot of the time."

That, on top of the usual trials of teenage life… Winry could see where that would be trouble. Ed had dealt with similar problems as a kid in the military. She hoped he'd be able to give Coran some helpful perspective.

* * *

Ed wasn't entirely sure what was up with his oldest grandson as he paused outside the door to Coran and Reichart's room. Inside he heard something thump against the wall, and then what sounded like books falling to the floor. "Coran? I'm coming in." He didn't wait for an invitation before opening the door.

Coran had his back to the door, both fists planted into the wall as he leaned against it. Desk overturned…books scattered everywhere… what Ed would have considered a classic tantrum in progress. From him, he would have understood it, from Coran… it was definitely unusual.

"You want to talk about it?"

Coran's back stopped quivering. "No, I don't."

This was getting Ed nowhere. "Fine. Change clothes. We're going running."

Coran turned around with a bewildered stare. "What?"

"If you don't want to talk, we run." Ed scooped up a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and shoved them into Coran's hands. "Meet me downstairs in two minutes or you can spend the afternoon hand-washing and then personally hang-drying all the underwear in this house."

Coran didn't even try to call his bluff. "I'll see you in a minute."

Ed went downstairs and waited on the porch, stretching a little. He was pretty sure he could set a pace that would run any anger and frustration out of his grandson. Besides, as active as the boys were, none of them had Ed's training.

"So where are we going?" Coran asked when he joined him.

"Around," Ed shrugged. "I usually do about five or ten miles on a nice day like this. You think you're up for it?"

Angry teenager eyes; Tore used to give him those. Ed needled the boy's pride on purpose, and it worked. "I can handle anything you can."

"Famous last words," Ed grinned as he took off. He didn't set a particularly hard pace, just a brisk jog that took them up into the foothills and away from town mostly. He kept it at something he was pretty sure would keep Coran pushing himself, but he wouldn't keel over immediately.

Coran actually managed better than Ed expected. Of course, growing up in the country meant a lot more walking, and generally better fitness than some city kids, so Ed wasn't surprised that Coran made it the first mile relatively easily, and even pushed to the second, by the third he was panting heavily, and half-way to four Ed slowed as Coran stumbled and nearly doubled-over in the grass, soaked in sweat as he sat there on his hands and knees.

"We're not done yet," Ed commented.

Gasping in cool mountain air, Coran didn't respond, he just shook his head, slammed his fist into the ground a few times…and started crying. Not loudly, but soft, silent tears slide down his cheeks as he sucked in air.

Ed took a step back, and let him alone. Frustrated and spent, Coran could do nothing but let it all out; and that was clearly what he needed to do. It was nearly five minutes before Coran seemed to gather some control over himself, though he didn't move.

Only then did Ed step forward again, and crouch down next to his grandson who was – he had noticed earlier – already taller than him. "So, what happened at school? Did you talk to Maggie?" He'd bet a year's retirement it had to do with the girl.

Finally Coran nodded. "Yeah… we… broke up."

_Somewhere out there owes me a few sens. _"I take it she did the breaking."

Coran's head just kept nodding. "I didn't think…it would hurt…this much. But when she said… we were over I…"

Ed set one hand gently on the young man's back. "Give it time," he said quietly. "Sometimes we don't realize how strong our feelings are until it's too late, but it heals, and who knows, maybe it's not over for good."

"Do you really think that?" Coran looked up at him dubiously. "Or are you just trying to make me feel better?"

Ed shrugged. "I think you can't tell the future. If the girl's parents know," and Aldon had warned him that he had found out that they did, "Then you can bet that's part of it. In a couple of years, you could have another shot if you still want it." Realistically, by then he might well have found someone else or be happy without a girl for a while. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry to hear it."

Coran sat up and back onto his knees, and scrubbed his eyes dry with the back of his hand. "Thanks, Grandpa, but… what do I do until then?"

"About Maggie or about keeping your dignity where it belongs?" Ed asked.

Coran's face turned red, though not from anger this time. "Let's say both."

Ed nodded as he stood up; his knees didn't like bending that much for that long anymore. "Well, as for the girl, all you can do is what she wants. Let her decide how close and how much you interact, but be around and be a friend if she'll let you. Otherwise she'll probably feel used. On the second part," he shrugged, "I'll tell you what I told your Dad when he was your age; find something else physical to do to get rid of the frustration and tension. Running, for example," he grinned. "It's certainly a better way to deal with it than other alternatives, and it has the added benefit of keeping you fit."

Coran nodded more slowly, clearly aware of said benefits. "I get the point," he sighed, still panting slightly. "Though I have to say… a milkshake or something sounds really good right now anyway."

"Want to head into town?" Ed suggested. "The ice cream shop's still there right?"

"Yeah," Coran nodded as he got back to his feet. "But that's almost four miles from here!"

"I said this was a long run," Ed smirked. "Though we can slow down some if you need the rest." The point was made, and he was pretty sure most of Coran's pent-up feelings were well vented, acknowledged, and dealt with for the moment.

Coran shook his head. "No way. I can't embarrass myself now."

"You won't be," Ed shook his head. "I can tell you haven't done this much, though you're a pretty good runner," he smiled. "But you don't want to overdo it either."

They set off again, and made it half way back before Coran broke back down to a walk. Ed didn't say a word, he just slowed up as well, and they walked together in silence. Ed saw no point in interrupting. It was clear that Coran was deep in thought.

"Grandpa?"

"What?"

"When you were my age… did you ever…?"

"No."

Coran sighed. "Why not?"

"It didn't really occur to me," Ed offered up an honest answer with a casual shrug. "I couldn't even admit to myself I was attracted to Winry, and I was too busy with more important things to spend time thinking about girls."

"The homunculi, right?"

Ed nodded. "The coup, the homunculi, trying to get Al and my bodies back to normal."

Coran looked down pointedly at Ed's auto-mail arm. "I guess you can't have everything, huh?"

"We managed to do everything that was important," Ed replied just as pointedly. "Saved the country, got rid of the homunculi, and Al got his body back, and a chance at life." _Everything_ important; he no longer counted his own limbs among that tally.

"I wanted to go fight in the war," Coran admitted after a minute. "But Dad told me I couldn't go. Everyone tried to tell me I was too young but… but you weren't, and Great Uncle Al wasn't… and Aunt Sara wasn't."

Was that was this was about? Ed had a feeling it was certainly the root of a lot of things. "You're wrong," he replied. "We were all too young. Yeah, we did it, but that didn't make it smart, and that didn't mean we were ready. You can't assume a few exceptions make a rule. Sometimes, even what everyone thinks works doesn't. It was rough, doing an adult's job without any of the experience, or any of the rights. Of course I thought I knew everything," Ed snorted, and grinned. "And being pretty much raised by single guys in the military is probably not the _best_ way to get an education."

Coran had turned his head and was listening intently. "Must've been tough," he admitted. "But you grew up. What about later? I mean, you weren't a kid forever."

"At least you'll admit I used to be a kid," Ed grinned. "You know, I didn't change much. While Al and I were stuck on the other side of the gate we were still doing things the way we always had pretty much; him and me and a mission."

"They didn't have girls there?" Coran asked dubiously.

At this point, Ed couldn't blame the kid for the skepticism. Retrospect made him amazed at himself sometimes too. "Yeah, they did. Though Al was the only one who really ever dated. Me, all I did was figure out I was still in love with your Grandmother." But Coran knew a lot of the story already, there was no need to rehash it all.

"I guess I never thought about what that must have been like…waiting… all that time." Coran's pace slowed a little more. "Before, it didn't cross my mind but now… you waited all those years?"

Ed nodded. "That's love, and what it'll do to you. Yeah, other girls were willing, but they weren't Winry."

"You really know how to make a guy feel guilty."

"It's good for you." Ed had certainly spent enough of his life experiencing that emotion. "There's no reason to rush life if you don't have to, and things people do that they just can't take back again and do over. Once you play a card, you can't take it back. Once you make a decision, you have to live with whatever happens because of it."

Something seemed to turn on in Coran's head. He glanced over at Ed cautiously. "Is that why you don't drink?"

The kid had a good grasp of logic and connecting things when he used it. Ed just nodded. "Yes, but that's another really long story about life-lessons that's going to wait."

"For how long?" Did he really want to know? He looked like it, and who knew when Coran would open himself up again enough to hear all of this in a receptive frame of mind.

Ed chuckled. "Until I get a chocolate shake in my system. My mouth will get dry talking that much."

**November 3****rd****, 1965**

Tore didn't bother to stifle the yawn that cracked his jaw as he poured himself a morning cup of coffee in the break room. He looked for the creamer, but they appeared to be out… again.

"Well you look dog tired this morning," Cal grinned as he leaned his back against the counter next to him, arms crossed. "Good night last night?"

Tore chuckled and sipped his coffee straight. "Is there any other kind?"

Cal shook his head. "I don't know how you find them, but Cecilia's got more stamina than most any three girls combined, as worn out as you look. I don't know how you keep up."

"Stamina," Tore smirked. He probably spent half his nights over at her place now as it was. The base quarters were far from ideal for long-nights of inventive sex.

"I bet," Cal replied, looking amused. "This isn't getting serious on you is it?"

Tore paused, taking a long sip of coffee as an excuse for not answering immediately. He'd been wondering that himself. All he could say for the moment was she definitely qualified as a girlfriend and a lover. "Could be, eventually," he shrugged. "We definitely have a lot in common."

"Good," Cal said. "Look I was wondering… do you remember that bet we made?"

Tore paused mid-sip. "Bet?" He started trying to think back. When would that have been? Recently?

"It was a while ago," Cal smiled. "New Year's Eve, first year of the war?"

Oh, that bet! "Yeah," Tore grinned. "I bet you the war would be wrapped up by the next New Year's."

"Would you say you won that bet?" Cal asked.

"Well Mustang sure flambéed the Drachmans that day, didn't he?" Tore said. "Given that's what caused the surrender, I'd say so, yeah."

"Then you should remember the terms of the bet." Cal's smile became dangerously sneaky. "You bet that the _winner_ owed the loser a favor."

"Man, did I really?" Tore had to think hard. He remembered Finn and liquor. "We were pretty toasted." But, yeah, he'd said that hadn't he? "All right then, mister loser, what do I owe you?"

Cal slapped his hand down on Tore's shoulder with a triumphant smirk. "Congratulations, you're now my Best Man."

Tore almost coughed as he sprayed coffee across the counter. "What? I… wow." He reached for a towel then stopped, and looked up at Cal. "Really? You want me to do that?"

Cal nodded. "Who else would I ask? Come on, man, after everything we've been through? You're probably the closest friend I've got. Alyse finally started bugging me to pick someone… and I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather have at my back." He grinned. "Besides, you were the one who kept pestering me to get together with her in the first place."

Coming from Cal, that was a touching, heart-warming speech. Tore chuckled. "True enough. It's a good thing you took my advice."

"Yeah, it is." Cal stood up and grabbed a coffee cup for himself. "You know, while she wouldn't be in the wedding party, you're welcome to bring a date."

"Is that your not so subtle hint that I should invite Cecilia?" Tore asked as he finished wiping down the counter.

"Invite whoever you like," Cal shrugged. "But yeah, your girlfriend is usually your best choice." He poured himself a cup and turned to go, though he paused by the door. "Thanks, Tore."

Tore ignored the slightly sentimental feeling in his throat and shrugged, grinned back. "Hey, no problem."

**November 14****th****, 1965**

Winry couldn't remember the last time Central had looked so inviting and homey. Even the train station was a welcome and familiar sight. Funny, how after the war she had been too tired and burnt out to notice anything but the people in the city itself; her friends and family who had survived.

Now, even in bleak November, the city seemed alive, peaceful. The holiday season was coming on, and everything was beginning to feel festive.

"Amazing isn't it?" Ed grinned next to her as they climbed out of the taxi in front of the house.

"Feels good to be home," Winry smiled as Ed hauled their suitcases – what they hadn't shipped home – out of the back of the cab, paid the man, and headed up towards the door. Inside, the dogs began to bark.

"I'm curious to see what Ethan and Lia have done with the place," Ed admitted.

Winry was too. She knew the room swap was done, and the nursery finished – and now with any added accommodations needed to allow for the fact that there were two infants! "I'm curious to see what the little ones have done to them," she chuckled. She was both sorry and glad to have missed out on most of Lia's pregnancy, but it gave Ethan and Lia time alone that they wouldn't have as much of for a long time to come.

"Well I'm sure we'll find out soon enough." Ed set down the suitcases and pulled out his keys.

Apparently the dogs had been enough warning, because the bolt shot back before the keys clicked into the hole. The door opened, and Winry no longer had to wonder how her daughter-in-law was doing as she greeted them at the door, preceded by her unborn children.

Ed let out a long, low whistle, and Lia blushed. "Welcome home."

Winry smiled and dropped her one bag to give Lia a hug. "It's so good to see you," she replied. "You look wonderful."

"Thanks," Lia chuckled, hugging her back despite the awkward angle needed to manage it. "It's nice to know someone other than Ethan has that opinion. His is too biased for me to trust."

"And mine isn't?" Winry chuckled.

"Less so," Lia replied, wincing as she stepped back. "At least you understand it from the business end."

"Lia?" Ethan's voice carried through the house. He sounded worried. Winry saw him in the entry way as they came in. "I thought you were relaxing?"

"I wanted a drink," she sighed impatiently. "And then your folks came to the door."

Ethan seemed to require another second to register they were there, and Winry wondered if Ethan's distraction with his wife was really that all-encompassing. Ethan smiled and moved forward to hug Winry, then Ed. "Mom, Dad! You're back."

"We said we would be," Ed snickered. "Or did you think you'd have the place all to yourselves forever?"

"No, and we're very glad to have you home," Lia interjected.

Ethan smiled. "What Lia means is she's glad to have someone else around besides me."

"Are you still working?" Winry asked as they finally got all the way inside, the door closed behind them, dogs sniffing eagerly at their legs.

Ed crouched down and gave Pir a roughed-up-fur hello.

Lia shook her head. "I was hoping to work up until the end of the semester, but as my dear husband pointed out a couple of weeks ago, my due date doesn't even extend that far, even though I seem to."

"Full term is December first," Ethan nodded. "We're just hoping to keep them in there that long."

"So no," Lia finished the explanation as she picked up a discarded glass of water off the table and settled back into the overstuffed chair, "I took leave last week."

"Finally," Ethan grinned, though there was a hint of strain around his eyes. Winry got the feeling they had actually argued about it more than they usually argued about most anything.

"I understand," Ed stood from greeting his dog and smiled at their son. "Your Mom had the brilliant idea that going into labor while I was in an alchemy duel was a great idea."

Winry elbowed him in the ribs… not gently. "Sara was almost two weeks late."

"I don't think we'll have that problem," Lia smiled weakly, rubbing one side of her stomach. "I swear I'm black and blue inside as much as these two kick and shove. I think they're having a border war of their own."

Winry could see what Lia was referring to. At the moment her stomach moved of its own accord, and distinct bumps appeared along the surface in different areas every few seconds. She remembered that feeling. "Do they ever settle down?"

"Briefly after meals," Lia replied. "Though it's gotten worse as they run out of room."

"Speaking of rooms," Ethan smiled, "Do you want to see yours?"

"Yes, I do," Winry allowed Ethan to shift topics. It was a nice break for everyone as she and Ed put their things in the downstairs bedroom which had transformed into almost an exact replica of the one they had slept in upstairs for decades. "You did a wonderful job," she smiled. "Do you like the upstairs bedroom?"

"Except for Lia's having to climb the stairs, yes," Ethan smiled.

"Is everything okay?" Winry asked him more directly then. "Lia seems fine."

"She is," Ethan sighed, and nodded. "It's just a matter of waiting, and that seems rougher every day we get closer. We already had one false alarm a couple of days ago, and she's already exhausted carrying those two around all the time. They won't let her sleep much. That's not going to make labor any easier."

"Not much does," Winry pointed out gently.

"You look pretty exhausted yourself," Ed commented.

"I'm not getting much sleep either," Ethan admitted, smiling wearily. "Apparently I'm already their favorite thing to punch at during the night."

"Well, at least this close, even if they come early they should be just fine," Winry reassured her son. He was a doctor. He knew this, but she knew from experience that sometimes having someone else reaffirm the basics, and sometimes the obvious, helped.

"Hey, what's this?"

Winry turned and saw what Ed had, a package – long and cylindrical – on their bed.

"Oh, that came from Creta a few days ago," Ethan's smile became more relaxed. "It's from Mars Leighton."

Baby discussion was temporarily put on hold as they returned to the living room, opened up the prints and rolled them out. Not only were there prints, Winry discovered, but a delightful series of sketched and lightly water-colored drawings of what the exterior would look like, and some of the interior options. "Oh, it's beautiful!"

"It's fantastic," Ed was grinning temple-to-temple. "It's exactly what I asked for... only better."

"I can't believe you're going to build that thing," Ethan chuckled, though he looked amused. "It's massive! But you're right, it'll fit the whole family."

"Speaking of which," Winry smiled over at Ed. "You should go show Al."

Her husband's smile slipped…just a little. Winry had been the one to ask Elicia – through her Al – about the house. Ed and Al still hadn't spoken since Al left the war front. Over a year without a word between them save getting approval to build the house. "I should," he agreed. "Should I call first?"

"Nah," Ethan replied before Winry could. "I think you should definitely surprise him."

* * *

Edward felt like the lump in his throat and the one in his stomach might decide to join each other at any minute as he made his way on foot over to Alphonse and Elicia's. Winry had assured him from talking to Elicia that Al was no longer made at Ed, but the lack of words between them – by situation as much as anything else – did not make Ed feel reassured. The only shadow on the enjoyment of the past few months had been his concern for his brother, and where they stood. Now, he was about to find out.

Al's house was busier than Ed had anticipated when he arrived. He hesitated when he saw other cars, but went up the front anyway. He was pretty sure one of them was Will and Ren's, but the others?

The answer was evident when Gracia answered the door and Ed saw the living room was full of women… and fabric, and other things. "Edward, welcome back!"

"Thanks, Gracia," Ed replied. "Is Al home?"

"Hiding out back manning the grill for dinner," Gracia chuckled. "Wedding preparations aren't really his thing."

Given the swarm of girls – Alyse and Ren included – Ed guessed that the decoration-making party was in full swing; swags of fabric, clusters of silk flowers, all being made into decorations in champagne and a soft blue somewhere between forget-me-nots and a summer sky. "I'll take the back gate."

"Good idea, but make sure to come in later," Gracia added. "We'd all like to see you."

"I will," Ed promised, slipping around the side of the house and opening the gate in Al's back fence.

From the back, Al looked as much like Al as ever. Hair neat-trimmed, clean slacks and a long-sleeve collared shirt – with a warm blue woolen sweater over it in this weather. The creak of the gate must have caught his attention, because he turned around, and Ed stopped so suddenly he almost tripped.

"Hey," Ed smiled, feeling sort of stupid for feeling nervous. This was Al… right? "Leighton sent the plans."

The facial hair wasn't bad looking – he'd even known about it – but the impact was still a shock. Al's expression was blank for a moment, and then it broke into a grin so friendly and familiar – even with the bit of beard – that Ed's eyes stung wetly as Al set down his spatula and crossed the grass. "Edward!" A moment later Ed was folded in a hug so tight, welcoming, and familiar, he really did start to cry as he hugged Al back with everything he had. "How long have you been back?" Al asked when they stepped back.

"A couple of hours," Ed replied. "We got home and found out the plans had arrived. You want to see them?" It was the easiest thing to say. After so long, he wasn't sure how to bring up what had come between them, and he wasn't sure he wanted to after that warm reception he hadn't been expecting.

"Of course," Al nodded. "Let me just flip the sausages okay?"

They laid the plans out on the deck table and poured over them again in between checking the meat. Al loved every detail just as Ed had hoped he would; just the way Al's tastes had always run. "So you like it."

"I think it's the best house we could have ever thought of building," Al admitted with an emphatic nod. "I think Mom would have loved it too."

"Yeah, I think so," Ed agreed. "I'm glad you agree. If you'd said no, I wouldn't have commissioned the plans."

Al looked momentarily pained. What had he said? He waited for Al to speak as his brother straightened up and moved back over to the sausages – and apparently a large foil-wrapped pile of herbed veggies in the coals – and flipped the latest batch. "I'm sorry, Ed."

"What for?" Not that Ed couldn't think of a few things, but it seemed odd to start apologizing for things now, on either end.

"For almost strangling you to death, for starters," Al replied with a sheepish half-smile. "For being mad at you for almost getting between me and Tamirov… and for expecting you to do something neither one of us can do."

"What that?"

"Separate work from family," Al turned back around to him again, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I accused you of being unable to stop treating me like your brother; letting family color your judgment. Well, you do… but so do I. I admit it, sometimes I got sick of it always being 'the Elric brothers' or 'Edward Elric and his little brother.' You're the big international legend, and I'm just the Emperor of Xing's brother-in-law's father." There was definitely a joking tone to the last.

Ed nodded, almost afraid to interrupt. Obviously Al had spent a lot of time thinking things over, and given the lack of anger, waiting until he was done seemed the best solution.

Al didn't seem bothered by his lack of response. "But really, the person I've been more dissatisfied with for a long time was _me._ I've never been able to see you as anything other than my stubborn, pig-headed, loyal brother."

"Thanks, I think."

"You were right, about some of it," Al continued. "Everything I didn't like, but didn't do anything about. I was so caught up in chasing down that madman I almost lost myself in the process and… that would have hurt Elicia more than anything anyone else had ever done."

"So does this mean you feel like _you_ again?" Ed asked.

Al nodded, and the smile returned. "Yeah, I do."

"Which explains the bone-crunching hug," Ed chuckled. "But what about the squirrel on your chin?"

Al laughed, and his grin turned slightly wicked. "Elicia likes it."

* * *

_Author's Note: _11/25/2010 Finis on another story! And Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it. :) I am currently planning to do a couple of other 'extra chapter' weeks in December (primarily for Christmas and New Years. ;) ). Story 44 starts next week with no interruption in the posting schedule.


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